For me, the first puff of editing is like a drag off a God-knows-how-old cigarette. I’m expecting this pleasant experience. I loved my cigarettes the last time I smoked. Sure I gave them up for a week. But I’m back. I’m ready for this experience. And, arggh what the hell is this. This reads/tastes like crap. I can’t believe I wrote/smoked this. It’s enough to make me want to quit. But, alas, there’s always an alas, alas I am addicted. I’ll smoke this old, stale, crappy cigarette because it is in my mouth. Perhaps the next one will taste better.