Last week my dear friend Scanner announced that he was on his second week without a cigarette. 

I love to smoke. I mean….. I reallyyyyyyy love to smoke. I never lit a cigarette up that I didn’t enjoy. When the price of cigarettes, here, went up to $8 a pack I got the machine in all its glory and began to roll my own. That was two years ago. I was able to reduce my cost from $8 to a little over a dollar a pack. I was thrilled at my savings which justified my “I don’t feel guilty for smoking” attitude.

Then it happened….

For a solid day, no matter how hard I tried, and damn I tried, I didn’t find pleasure once when sucking in the aromatic blend of one of the air suckers I’d produced. I couldn’t believe it. What the hell was going on!

 Be that as it may, I made a promise that after the holiday weekend I was done. Not that I would try, I’ve been there done that, but that I was, indeed, done. I’m closing in on 59 years of age this month and I started passive smoking at 13 and on a regular basis at 18 when Dad gave me permission. Do the math. That’s sick. Purely sick I tell you.

I fought with my Docs; I made bets with my Docs.

From my 5’4” round as he was tall neurosurgeon:

“Dee, you should quit smoking.”

“Doc, you should stop eating. I’ll make a deal with ya Doc. You lose some weight and I’ll quit smoking.”

“Deal”

One month later:

“When was your last cigarette Dee?’

“When was your last doughnut Doc?”

We parted ways.

My PC is constantly at me as well. Every smoker knows the drill.

“Dee, you have to make an effort. Physicians are going to start to refuse treating patients that smoke”

“I’ll lie, Doc.  Are they going to stop treating alcoholic's because they have the potential for getting psoriasis of the liver or obese folks that have the potential for heart failure, stroke etc.? Seriously Doc. what’s fair is fair”

“Dee…work with me here.”

“Doc, I’ll get fat.”

“So you gain a few lbs. You’ll feel better.”

“A few? Last time I stopped I put on 15lbs in two weeks. Red licorice is evil!”

“Look you’ll breathe better and be able to do more.”

“Than who?  When did Docs start picking our death sentences? I die from lung cancer from smoking or heart failure from obesity.  Jesus Doc, do you mind of I choose how I wanna go?”

And so on…

Last week my husband and I began to do the math. I smoked about a pack and a half a day. Two packs if social drinking or out of the States on a field call. At the current price for a pack I had to earn $8,000 pre-taxed dollars to support my habit. Are you friggen kidding me! Yes, I reduced that to roughly $4,000, give or take a few bucks, when I began rolling my own but still…..I could feed a family of four for a year with that money.

Between the numbers and the day of tastes like shit, I put my first patch on today.  

I’ve cleaned the bedrooms, all the bathrooms, caught up on my laundry, reorganized the laundry room per my husbands request so we could get rid of the hamper he hates so much, pulled weeds, watered his damn tomato plants, gave Mom her bath and cut her toenails (God I hate that whether I smoke or not), made dinner already, dusted, vacuumed, gave the dog a trim…..

I’ve had 5 carrot sticks and 4 chips with blue cheese dip. I’m in a piss poor mood and wrote an email to my husband at work to give him a heads up. He did say his day was tough as well with the following response:

 I’ve had a tough morning.

 Spent 15 minutes doing payroll.

Talked for 10 minutes to HR about how screwed up the Cheshire transfers are.

Then, went out to lunch with Ryan (our son) 

Man, I can use a nap! Those carbs are kicking in. 

Bastard Man!

I beg of you….each of you. Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee do not incite any dustups within the next couple of weeks. My last nerve is pinched, I damn well know I’ll enjoy it and I may very well say something I’ll regret later. Or not………….

 My God I can feel it happening already!!!!!!!!!!!!