Nicotine

To the detriment of my health, my waking hours are lived in a nicotine haze. Mostly addiction, but partly boredom too, whenever I am unmoving I neatly pop a nicotine pouch under my lip. I believe no one notices the bulge but whenever caught out, shame hits me almost as fast as the 14mg of nicotine. The addiction is such that my biggest stress on entry to New Zealand was that my stacks of Velo would be found. I didn’t care about my hiking equipment or food bringing foreign pests in. Border control only cared about the chocolate in my backpack, the added puffed rice in my crunch bar being the topic of much worry.

Bags full of nic.

Having got my lifeline into the country, my worry has moved to running out. I’ve scanned most tobacco stores for the familiar circular container. My heart normally races at this time, only slowed by popping a pouch in my mouth. I don’t think they’ll be any Velo around once my supply is gone. I haven’t started to panic yet, but I know I will as the supply dwindles and I’m ashamed of that.