Tuesday's the Day
I stopped smoking last year.
I restarted sometime in March, when I was anticipating going to Vegas with my sisters.
Then over the summer, I kept smoking on and off, the excuse I used was because my siblings were making me nutty over assisted living arrangements for my Mom. Or because Zed and I didn't work out. Or because Robert died.
There's always a good excuse when you're not ready to quit.
Then I was ready to quit again, and Cris and I went to Vegas. You can't not smoke in Vegas.
Then I got back and blah, blah, blah, still smoked.
So it's time to quit again.
My lungs don't like it.
I hate it.
My oncologist would shit if she knew. I have to make a regular doctor's appointment before I leave on vacation, and she'll shit if she knows.
The Goddess hates smoke. That's one more very pleasant incentive.
So, tomorrow I will present myself to my sister the Chinese medical doctor and let her needle me from head to toe. She will also prescribe some incredible stop smoking herbs that worked great before. I will also get some Nicorette, some fancy little British hard candies and another case of water.
I now have 16 cigarettes in my possession. By 2 p.m. tomorrow, they will either be smoked up or thrown away. Ash trays will be washed and hidden away. Carpeting will be vacuumed and dusted with some smoke neutralizing powder. The kitties will get sponge baths, just in case they have smoke smell in their fur.
Within three weeks, the jones will be pretty much gone. Walking on the beach with the Goddess will help ease any residual cravings, or at least replace nicotine cravings with some healthier ones.
It's a done deal. No more smoking.