Using the last chance, I choose to discuss my addiction to nicotine with Kate.
'I used to smoke for twenty years and never thought too much about it'- her I tell- 'after a break of nearly two years I am back smoking again. But it is different this time, because I feel guilty after every smoke I inhale. My healthy living, my good form, my happy Soul- all down the drain! Is here a double standard game I am playing?'
'Not necessarily, no'- tells me Kate- 'maybe more in bliss of perfectionism you have decided to wrap yourself ill.'
I take my phone, I dial Madam.
'Would you say I am a perfectionist?'- I ask.
'Yes'- her answer is honest and straight.
'Rate how badly, please, in a scale from one to ten'.
I wait for her answer, I am very intrigued. It takes longer than usual- Madam knows how to step on my perfect Achilles heel.
'Eight and half'- she comes back after a while.
'Really? Hmmm... I was hoping for five...'
I sit in a cafe of Bo-Bo's (my friend has this name for wealthy bohemian people; she says I am one of them and we laugh). I drink the best coffee, I smile to the strangers and I make a wish seeing a butterfly flying by. I smell the rose in a vase and into dreams here I slip... I don't even smoke- too perfect I feel... And for now I do not think is it good or bad thing. I'll leave this for later- when with cigarette's smoke I'll decide myself to fulfil...
'The Universe would not let your smoking go easy'- adds more Madam, sensing what the problem is really about- 'you'll have to work little harder in teaching that perfect baby of yours to chill out...'
'Perfect Guilt' note I hang on my notice board in the kitchen today. To think about why I smoke and to remember the counselling game... God bless Kate. And Madam, of course. I pour myself glass of red and I have a cigarette with no guilt attached, afterwards :)