So. This past June, I found myself stressed out and wanting a cigarette. I hadn't smoked since a brief flirtation with it in high school- and that only lasted a couple of weeks. So I bummed a cigarette and smoked half of it. Long story short, I now smoke 2 (or 2 and a half) cigarettes a day.
It was all done in secrecy. No one knew, especially Cheburashka. In her presence, I'm very anti-smoking. I also pester my sister (who smokes at least a pack a day) to quit. I don't know why, at 41, I decided to pick up this habit but I did. Well, I know why. Things were getting out of control, I wasn't happy with my life, and I guess I just wanted to be naughty. And I thought I could just put it down when I wanted to. Wrong.
I've gotten to the point where I don't care if I come back to the office smelling of smoke. As long as there's no trace of it when I pick up the kid. But now I smoke after she's gone to bed, and gas the place with air freshener (and if she picks up the smell, I blame it on the neighbors that smoke in the hall outside my window). When you get to the point where you plan that next cigarette, and think of it all day, there's a problem.
I had six cigarettes left in the box. I just shredded them, and threw away the lighter. Yesterday I bought nicotine gum, but still smoked: as long as I know there's one left, I'm a'gonna smoke it. So I destroyed them. I just had a physical, and other than anemia (which explains why I'm tired all the time), I'm healthy, so why make things worse? Things are tough enough right now (like the fact that I'm two months behind on rent), so I really don't need to add cigarettes to the mix.
Even though I really, really like them.
The secrecy of it bugged me as well. So I decided to put it out there. I'm quitting smoking the cigarettes that none of you knew I smoked.
I apologize in advance if I get really snippy with anyone.