camber (negativecamber) wrote in playinghouse, @ 2012-08-28 22:27:00 |
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Current mood: | anxious |
Who: Camber and open
When: early afternoon
Where: Kitchen to start
Cam was TWITCHY. Figuring out that she hadn't misplaced her cigarettes or left them in a jacket, that she wasn't going crazy, that they were gone -- along with everything else not only in her room, but apparently in the entire house -- had done nothing but make this entire situation worse. She'd spent nearly 15 minutes having a very quiet panic attack, pacing frustratedly around her room and taking her clothes on and off before she found something comfortable.
She wasn't a heavy smoker, at her worst and most stressed out about a pack a day, but usually far less than that, depending on company and the situation. But it was like having a good friend with her, a security blanket. Cigarettes were a bonding mechanism, an escape route, punctuation, a measure of time. It was a familiar feeling in her jeans pocket. It was something private to her and having that taken away pissed her off. That, more than the vodka or the apparent lack of anything else fun in the house, bothered her. She drank for fun, not because she needed to. Cigarettes...well. That word "need" pissed her off but it wasn't exactly untrue. She'd tried to quit before, exactly once out of pure annoyance at how much of her paycheck got spent on smoking. She'd gotten as far as switching to the lightest, shittiest brand she could find before she gave up.
After that 15 minutes, though, anger and anxiety had faded into a sort of resentful resignation. It wasn't like she could run out to 7-11 or "give up" on this cold turkey adventure. And sitting in her room was, well, boring.
Grumpily, she headed downstairs. What she really wanted was coffee, but she suspected that wasn't going to happen either. In her mind she started going through what might metabolize into sugar the fastest. Bread. They couldn't have taken BREAD out of the house. Could they?
The kitchen let in a cool blaze of light that could only be snow, and she leaned up against the bay window for a second to stare out into the white blizzard conditions beyond. It was a little bit relaxing. After a minute, she sighed and frowned at her multitude of decaf options and complete lack of sugar. "Fuck. Okay."