smoke break

29 September 2000

Is it bad that the only time I take a real break from working is to take a smoke? I think so. Normally I'm not a smoker -- I leave that to Cynthia -- but today it was just necessary. Cyn smokes cloves every once in a while, so I snagged her pack of Djarum Blacks before I left the house this morning. Smoking a clove is an experience to cherish and prolong. You can't just go outside any old time and start puffing; you have to plan for it. You must prepare as for a religious ritual. Putting on your jacket, checking for your cloves and a lighter and walking decisively out the door (so as to discourage anyone trying to stop you) is important. Then you have to find the proper spot to smoke. I stretched out on top of the picnic table on the patio out back, spread-eagle, and stared up at the clouds gathering above me. The sky was slate gray and mottled with the clouds. I zoned out for about twenty minutes and watched the trees whip into a frenzy above my head with the increasing wind, leaving to go inside only when the first drops of rain fell.