This is all part of the pattern. After each episode I scrawl, berating myself, but after a couple of pages the nutty stream gives way. I distance myself from the experience. I begin to think rationally. I calm and resolve to begin again. I write determinedly positive sentences. But today when I get to the rational-thinking stage, I can’t look brightly ahead. Because—I mean, come on. The reality is that I have spent two whole years making resolutions to quit (“quit,” that is the word I always use) and I am still doing this. And meanwhile I am wasting time, so much time.
