Today is 22 days since I last had a cigarette.
Of course, I haven’t actually been to a pub since then, so. Y’know.
So here’s what I think the whole thing has gone thus far:
Days 0, 1 – No real difference
Days 3-7 – An unending chant in the background of my mind about “I want a cigarette,” of varying intensities from bearable to “seriously, get out of arm’s reach because I am going to choke someone and you look really handy right now.”
Days 8-15 – The chant is still there and still irritating, but it’s become somewhat boring and now I’m determined to beat the stupid chant because, dammit, I’m more stubborn than (uh, myself) cigarettes.
Days 16-19 – The chant fades so now you mostly only seriously want cigarettes when you have habit triggers—drinking, meals, your morning routine, etc. First reaction to someone irritating you is no longer “I want a cigarette like WHOA,” but it still kicks in if they continue to stress you out.
Days 20-22 – “That dude in the elevator really stinks like smoke.”
So. Now that I’m thinking about it, yeah, I want a cigarette. But! I wasn’t, until I sat down to write this. I guess that’s good. Mostly I think I’m just pleased about the approximately $80-90 I have not spent on cigarettes in the past three weeks (at $8/pop here—yay sin taxes!).
