I bought my last pack of cigarettes on December 4th.
I was supposed to have my last cigarette on December 5th.
It hasn't exactly worked out that way.
After a month I feel like I'm supposed to be over this whole thing, but apparently not.
Last Saturday I smoked three and a half cigarettes.
On New Years Eve I smoked a number of very small hand rolled cigarettes. I'm not sure how many normal cigarettes that equals, but I know I should not have been smoking them.
Last night I had a few drags.
I feel like a jerk, mostly. For being all, "Woo, yeah! Cold turkey!" And then not going cold turkey. A friend of mine quit about twelve weeks ago and hasn't had one slip up. He didn't smoke as much as I did for as long as I did, but still. He makes me feel like a jackass.
I haven't joined the gym yet and I've smoked more in the last week then I did during the entirety of December.
Dammit.
Showing posts with label fail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fail. Show all posts
January 9, 2009
December 12, 2008
Memories, etc
I don't remember when cigarettes stopped being an accessory and started being a craving. But I remember other things.
I remember the first time I inhaled. I was walking around with my eighth grade friends doing what I thought was smoking. Doing what I thought was looking cool. "You're not inhaling," said a girl I was with. "Yes I am!!!" I replied, and showed off my skills by taking smoke into my mouth, breathing through my nose, and exhaling through my mouth. "That's not smoking," my incredibly helpful friend said. "This is. Take a pull of your cigarette." I did. She grabbed my shoulders and shouted "YOUR MOTHER'S COMING!" I inhaled so hard I felt like I was dying.
Think about it. You're minding your own business doing something wrong and then suddenly...your mother's coming. How quickly did you draw breath?
That's how I learned to inhale.
I remember being at camp when I was sixteen and sneaking behind the laundry room to smoke. Years earlier some smoking counselor stuck a chair back there and every year someone put it back at the beginning of the summer. The only thing I had with me to cover the smell was some orange air freshener. I walked around smelling like an artificial basket of oranges all summer.
I remember being the only smoker in the 9th grade to not have their parents called. I was part of the "smokers crew" as we called ourselves. One of the guys we hung out with received a lighter engraved with "_____ _____ High School Smokers Crew" from the rest of us. We were so proud of our habit.
I slipped up again on Thursday night, but not nearly as badly as I could have. It's hard to not smoke when you're being fed tequila shots by people you haven't seen in ten years. (Don't even ask) But as I normally would have smoked at least half a pack on a night like that, I'm pretty pleased with myself for only having a cigarette or two over the course of the night. Mad that I smoked at all, but glad I didn't smoke more.
I'm doing the best I can.
I remember the first time I inhaled. I was walking around with my eighth grade friends doing what I thought was smoking. Doing what I thought was looking cool. "You're not inhaling," said a girl I was with. "Yes I am!!!" I replied, and showed off my skills by taking smoke into my mouth, breathing through my nose, and exhaling through my mouth. "That's not smoking," my incredibly helpful friend said. "This is. Take a pull of your cigarette." I did. She grabbed my shoulders and shouted "YOUR MOTHER'S COMING!" I inhaled so hard I felt like I was dying.
Think about it. You're minding your own business doing something wrong and then suddenly...your mother's coming. How quickly did you draw breath?
That's how I learned to inhale.
I remember being at camp when I was sixteen and sneaking behind the laundry room to smoke. Years earlier some smoking counselor stuck a chair back there and every year someone put it back at the beginning of the summer. The only thing I had with me to cover the smell was some orange air freshener. I walked around smelling like an artificial basket of oranges all summer.
I remember being the only smoker in the 9th grade to not have their parents called. I was part of the "smokers crew" as we called ourselves. One of the guys we hung out with received a lighter engraved with "_____ _____ High School Smokers Crew" from the rest of us. We were so proud of our habit.
I slipped up again on Thursday night, but not nearly as badly as I could have. It's hard to not smoke when you're being fed tequila shots by people you haven't seen in ten years. (Don't even ask) But as I normally would have smoked at least half a pack on a night like that, I'm pretty pleased with myself for only having a cigarette or two over the course of the night. Mad that I smoked at all, but glad I didn't smoke more.
I'm doing the best I can.
December 8, 2008
I made a mistake
I chose last Friday to quit smoking because I had heard that it was much easier to quit if you changed your surroundings. My office officially moved on Friday and I was going away for the weekend. Change of scenery!
When I was in Boston it was easy to not smoke. I was around children. I was around members of my family who, while they probably have figured out by this point that I smoked, would murder me if they ever saw a cigarette in my hands. I kept busy. There was a lot of food.
Now I'm back in New York. More specifically, I am back in my apartment. I love smoking in my apartment. I have very fond memories of smoking in my apartment. It's hard to imagine NOT smoking in my apartment. Which is where the trouble started.
I had one cigarette left in my last pack and I took a drag of it. And it was good. It has also, however, made me feel disgusting. I felt fine all day until I decided to read other blogs about quitting. It was at that point that I decided I desperately wanted a cigarette and found myself excited to come home where I knew I had one waiting.
It is for this reason that I am heading right back to my boyfriend's house which is full of nonsmokers and delicious snacks. I think I'm going to have to stay the hell out of my apartment for the next week or so, or this is never going to work.
When I was in Boston it was easy to not smoke. I was around children. I was around members of my family who, while they probably have figured out by this point that I smoked, would murder me if they ever saw a cigarette in my hands. I kept busy. There was a lot of food.
Now I'm back in New York. More specifically, I am back in my apartment. I love smoking in my apartment. I have very fond memories of smoking in my apartment. It's hard to imagine NOT smoking in my apartment. Which is where the trouble started.
I had one cigarette left in my last pack and I took a drag of it. And it was good. It has also, however, made me feel disgusting. I felt fine all day until I decided to read other blogs about quitting. It was at that point that I decided I desperately wanted a cigarette and found myself excited to come home where I knew I had one waiting.
It is for this reason that I am heading right back to my boyfriend's house which is full of nonsmokers and delicious snacks. I think I'm going to have to stay the hell out of my apartment for the next week or so, or this is never going to work.
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