The last time I posted, about a week ago, I had mentioned that I was likely getting some bags the next day... Well, that never happened. Then today, I was mere feet away from a dealer. I heard every word of every conversation he had with every customer, and I knew if I were to walk about to him and talk to him about girl (I guess in certain parts of new York it is strictly known as girl and nothing else), I would have it in my hand in less than five minutes.
However, I was with my brother and sister in law at the time, eating lunch, so it's not like I could have done a deal in front of them without noticing... I'm going tomorrow morning, though, and try my hand at it. I wouldn't be surprised if the same guys were there, at least I hope they are. Its a really great spot, too, because I saw a small handful of guys clearly waiting for their guy (sitting, fidgety, constantly checking their phone), so I know I'll get it through someone.
Its been two weeks to the day since my last hit. Physically, I feel fucking awesome and don't want to ever touch dope again. Mentally, though, I'm freaking the fuck out. Dope is on my mind all the time. 70% of the customers who come into my work are clearly high opiates. Its everywhere, all around me, and I can't get a drop of it. Unless I smoke a shit ton of weed, I can't sleep at all. Its the constant allure of that next hit, the one that bring relief to every inch if my body that I can't stop thinking about.
We'll see how tomorrow goes. The threat of being ripped off is almost enough to deter me, but I also just really want to get a full night's sleep finally.