I am Surfering

We used to drive past a woman begging on the side of the road.

Her cardboard begging sign said:

“I’m surfering”

I know it is perverse and wrong and I apologise but it is unfortunately how my mind works.

BUT

I kept imagining her on a surf board.

Talking about surfering I have had my own lately.

Michael quit smoking two weeks ago and it has been a real trial.

BUT

Despite being sorely tempted in the past two weeks I did not cave.  I wanted so many times to drive to the shop to buy him cigarettes but I remained strong.

I know, very admirable of me right.

I have put up with:

• Swearing that would make a sailor blush.
• Too much talk about Z= see this link
• His pacing, until watching made me dizzy.
• Having to cook more often than is fair (I like our equal sharing of cookery Michael 90 percent of the time me 10 percent of the time)
• Extra extreme irritation from him to my natural state (not listening and of course in the interest of self preservation I have been actively ignoring him)

I need an intervention because I don’t know how much more of this I can take I might just jump into the car and drive to the store and buy him his bloody cancer sticks.