Quitting Smoking

I thought I would get a jump start on the quitting smoking. I lasted 4 days which is pretty good. But maybe cold turkey isn't for me. Maybe I need to turn it off like a faucett, you know, where it's still dripping a little until it's finally off.

Last night I called an old friend of mine to apologize for stealing his cat in college. It's always a little weird to talk to someone after an extended period of not talking, sort of like being shot into the future. It's especially funny when you haven't talked to this person in nine years only to discover that of all the places in the world, they live three blocks away.

Then I talked to my new old friend Aimee who moved here this summer and coincidentally works in a building right next door to me.

Then I watched Colonial House, more on that later.

Then I looked around my house and wondered how it got so filthy. I mean, so filthy. There are still Christmas decorations everywhere. And the wreckage of wrapping paper, empty cookie boxes and all pre-resolution warfare is everywhere.

I was wearing crazy mismatched pajamas and had my hair in a really high ponytail.

Instead of going to my 8:00 Thursday night plans, I sat on my couch staring at my cat.

These are bad signs. These are signs of the wintertime blues. Stir crazy, a little nutso, a little restless.

So I said to myself, this is a sad thing to admit, I said to myself..."Beazie (that's what I call myself) you need to either eat, drink, cry or smoke. I reviewed the options.

Eating: Well, January is no pizza month, and I didn't want to break my plan this early on. Also, I spent the last five days in a gym working my ass off. I've also stayed closely back on track with my weight watchers points all week, so it seemed silly to throw that all away on a delicious amazing awesome ho ho or chicken wings basket or bag of chips or...whoa.

Drinking: No, I've been sober for a year and two months. No need to throw that out the window over the January Blahs.

Crying: That is useless. Especially when you don't know why it's happening. I knew I wasn't really sad, just antsy.

Smoking: It would have to be smoking. It then dawned on me that the antsy-ness was probably coming FROM the lack of smoking. Even though I'm not a huge smoker, four days is longer than usual for me. Yes, that was it. Smoking. It would be glorious to smoke. I needed to smoke. Smokers are winners. Smoking is cool. Put your coat on. Smoking feels great! Put your boots on. Smoking makes your insides feel warm and cozy. Run to Walgreens. I'm coming cigarettes! I'm coming!!

I stood in line behind the slowest lady in the world who had five bazillion coupons. A sign. A sales clerk shouted out, "I can take anyone who isn't buying cigarettes over here!" Another sign. I see an actual sign on the wall that says "Don't forget about those RESOLUTIONS!" Do I believe in signs? Absolutely. Do I listen to them? No. Did I literally say under my breath, "F you sign! I'm gonna Smoooke!!" Absolutely.

I bought a pack of cigarettes and unwrapped them like a squirrel finding the first nut he's seen in weeks. Seriously, like a junkie. Then I stood on the corner and smoked and smoked and smoked.
In Chicago there is one rule at night if you are outdoors...keep moving. Never stand on the corner too long. Especially if you are a smoker. "Hey, Can I get a square off of you?"

"Sure."

It's my policy to always give cigarettes to people who ask for them on the street since I shouldn't be smoking them in the first place. So I did. Then I walked away. He kept talking.

"Hey Pretty Lady! I want to talk to you!"

"No Thanks" I crossed the street. He crossed the street.

"I said I want to talk to you!"

I walked faster. He walked faster. My heart started racing and the buzz from the cigarette after four days not smoking didn't help.

"Hey, come back here lady!"

Luckily, I was at the door to my house and I scooted in, abandoning the much loved cigarette in the grass that we are not supposed to walk on.

So basically, I risked my safety for cigarettes last night. That is pretty low and gross. I'm going to drag myself back up on the wagon again though, I promised I would.

March 1 is the official quit day.

January kind of sucks, doesn't it?