It’s very odd being happy, because I don’t feel like a different person. I feel like myself, but more like myself. It’s also very frustrating because I’m now willing to talk to people, and that goes in direct opposition to my mandate of refusing to engage with anyone at my workplace. I keep talking to people, being nice to people. Awful.
Not that anyone especially knows or cares, but Mrs A and myself have gone off the cigarettes, because estrogen boosters are big parts of her life. Her as a birth control thing and me because I need to correct my birth defect.
(sidebar, no one asks, but mentally I’m prepared to tell people my HRT pills are either to correct a birth defect, a genetic disorder, or a chemical imbalance - because being a coy asshole is how I keep myself amused)
Now that we’ve quit I’m still waiting for the sudden surge of energy, but also imagining my appointment with the doctors next month:
Doctor: How are you doing on smoking?
Me: I quit! It’s been a month and we don’t even have any in the house!
Doctor: That’s great! Have all the drugs!
Doctor: *hands over big bag of drugs*
Happy days song plays, freeze frame.