Feb 15, 2008 at 10:31 AM
I quit smoking again this morning. I've done it before, so I know I can do it again. Smoking my last cigarette, I continually postulated that I was going to be a non-smoker.

"I am a non-smoker.

"I am a non-smoker.

"I am a non-smoker."

Like that.

I watched the cigarette I was smoking, as it curled tendrils of smoke down my hand, around my wrist, smoke playing between my fingers, silently wrapping me in choking smoke. It spoke poetically of the difficulty of staying a non-smoker. It spoke to me of the uncomfortable hold smoking has had on me, often against my will.

There is nothing else in my life that I do that I actually don't want to. This is IT. Now that I am ridding myself of smoking, my life can truly become only mine to do with as I wish. I can spend all that time of smoking on bigger better things. That's 10 minutes, 10 times a day, 7 days a week of wasted time that I am reclaiming.

700 minutes a week, 600 HOURS a year I am not going to waste anymore. That's enough time to write a book, or just snuggle with my kids more, enjoy more time with my family, work more, WHATEVER.

Each time I've been quit, I started up again because there are people I love who smoked. But this time, I have no smokers around me at all. My new husband and his family have NO smokers in their midst. My best friend Amber still smokes, but since we only talk on the phone, it should be easier to stay quit.

I'm very excited about this particular attempt to quit...

I'll keep you posted.

But you're going to want to stay away from me for about a week in the meantime, because I'll probably be spending my reclaimed time on bitching out everyone around me, being ill and throwing tantrums. It's never easy to break an addiction.