5/17/01 10:25am
Just woke up from my nap for breakfast, which consists of a Cherry Coke from Arby's. Sleeping on a bus seat is like resting in a four-star hotel that you can't afford and have no intention of paying for. I am feeling really poor. This is just conditioning because as I live my low-wage, scraping-by life in Portland it will feel like I am very wealthy and rewarded with ample things people with money will never know. I feel like trash on this bus, but for some reason I thought I would feel powerful being within 10 feet of all my belongings and caring my net worth in cash. I tell myself that maybe I will feel better after Chicago, big-city trash to co-mingle with instead of these ten midwestern farm-town folk.
Had time for a cigarette, with so-called-breakfast. I spent the 7 minutes thinking about what my mom said about how I should be upfront with Jack and Sandy about my nicotine addiction. She thinks that would be "adult" and they'd respect that. I think I'd rather skip the lecture and be a kid in their eyes. I guess they're going to know. Non-smokers can detect a smoker from a distance further than bees can smell fear. I tell myself that I am ashamed of my habit, I have no excuse and if I was truly "adult" I wouldn't smoke. I tell myself I will quit after college, expecting that it will take me another 10 years to get an associate degree in anything. Four years after this bus trip Jack and Sandy still don't know I smoke (at least I've never told them and they haven't said anything). My father in-law and his wife and her two children and their husbands don't know I smoke, as far as I know. It's easier to hide habits you aren't ready to change, than admit things and apologize for the stuff you don't regret.
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