“Life’s A Bitch . . . And Then You Quit Smoking”

or the alternative title “Screw You And Everything Sucks”

After 19 1/2 years (yes, since I was 17), I decided that it’s finally time to quit smoking. I’m tired of smelling like an ashtray. I’m tired of being the only person at a function who has to leave the building to go inhale some nicotine. I’m tired of hacking up a lung when I do a strenuous hike. I’m tired of the panic that comes from knowing you only have one cigarette left in the pack and you don’t know when you can buy another pack. I’m tired of putting out the money to buy a pack almost every single day. But most of all, I’m tired of watching my poor puppy, Lola, scratch from her severe allergies knowing that the cigarette smoke makes it worse.

So, when I decided to climb Mt. Whitney this summer (see previous post) and I talked to my brother, he said that I really need to quit. He was right not only because of Mt. Whitney, but also because of the many cons and the almost non-existent pros that go along with smoking. After that conversation, I vowed to quit on May 1st, and that’s what I’ve done as of midnight last night. I have the patch securely stuck to my shoulder, and I’m determined. But boy, this sucks.

You see, you get into a routine. Mine was to have one on the way to work, and then to have one with my co-workers when we all got to the office. Throughout the day there would also be breaks, and then one when I would get home, one after dinner, one while watching TV, etc. etc. etc. But now I feel a little lost. My routine has been disrupted, and as the people who know me can attest, I like routine. This morning I even went out and just sat with my co-workers and it was fine, but I want one. Boy, do I want one.

In my head, I have all of the things I hate (see above) going around in my head. I also keep telling myself that I’m also doing it for my health (and equally important, for the health of Lola and my other dog, Gigi). But it’s funny how addiction makes you not care a lot about that when you’re going through withdrawals. Screw every reason that I don't like smoking because a cigarette tastes sooooo good. Yummmm.

Again, there’s no point to this little blurb other than to point out that today is going to be tough. I’d like to bury myself in work, but it’s hard to concentrate. I’d like to be the rock that people at work know me as, but every thought that’s going through my head keeps making me tear up for no good reason. I’d like to look forward to the weekend that is beginning in just a few hours, but I just want to buy a pack. I suppose this is going to be like this for a while.

Yep, life’s a bitch . . . and then you quit smoking.