I quit smoking on Oct. 24. Cold turkey.
I haven't smoked anything for almost nine months now, and although it's good, it also sucks.
I really miss smoking. I liked everything about smoking. I loved my Zippos; that snicking, clicking sound, the smell of naphtha. I loved the taste and feel of smoke.
But I also like the fact that I can play a round of golf without feeling like I'm dying by the 11th hole. I like being able to walk up the stairs to my second-story apartment without breathing heavily. I like the fact that I've even managed to lose some weight.
Yet I still miss smoking.
I have decided that I will smoke cigars, now and then, on special occasions. Not everyday, not even every other day. Just now and then. But I've made a promise and can't do that until I've been smoke-free for a full year first.
A little more than three months. I can't wait. I know that's wrong, but oh well!