Up in smoke

I'm approaching six months with out a cigarette. It's been long enough that I don't remember what I felt like when I did smoke (or what I smelled like). The fingers I used to hold my cigarettes have lost the yellow tinge that I thought was going to last forever. It seems that my sense of smell has improved, I can tell when I wake up late at night if the downstairs neighbors are smoking or not.

There are very few times I even think about wanting a smoke. The other day I was telling Phrank that one of the few times I find myself wanting one is after mopping the floors. She thought that was odd, I think. Although, the post mopping smoke was a habit I had for many years at the various gas stations I worked at. That's the thing about smoking, smokers use a cigarette as a reward or a moment to catch their breath (ironic as that may be).

The big test for me was probably driving back to Indiana by myself. I've been told over the years that road trips are a big deal breaker for people trying to quit. I can see that. I'd tried the drive before without smoking and it was pretty tough but this time I'd been off them long enough that it wasn't so bad. There were those moments late at night after the coffee had long stopped working that I would want one. Just as something to keep me awake.

Anyway, it seems that I'm going to keep this not smoking thing up. I kind of like not having to be outside when it's freaking cold. And my clothes don't seem to smell as bad, not to mention my car. Well the car still smells but that's just that french fry I lost.