A History of Smoking (Part IV)

I just realized that I have been an official non-smoker for over a year. The anniversary, however, passed me by without notice. I realize that I am jumping ahead in my telling of this smoking tale. But, aren't stories that fall out of sequence more interesting? More thought-provoking? Instead of a series of events -- typical block buster mind fodder -- a tale that is interwoven on various levels, slipping, like smoke itself, between cracks of understanding works, for me at least, to provide a more satisfying literary meal. Ok. I agree. Enough. So, as I was saying, I have been a non-smoker for over a year. My clothes smell better. I have more money in my pocket. I can climb stairs without wheezing. I can sleep through an entire night without waking up mid-chest crunching hack. My boogers are no longer black. I can spend more time with my children playing games without having to duck out for a quick puff. All in all, a pretty good deal. Side effects? Yes. A few. My husband who has not yet quit must deal with my inability to kiss him after coming in from a quick smoke. My nose stuffs up horribly if he comes to bed without showering first. I get cravings and mood swings if I am around smoke for any period of time. These, however, are a relatively small price to pay. I feel better and am surprised that I can go so long without even thinking about cigarettes when there was a time when I would go into a cold sweat if I knew I only had 2 left in my pack. Geesh. I'll leave the actual process of quitting for another post. Gotta leave a trailer eh? Suffice it to say that I am celebrating a belated happy new life as a non smoker day. When I get home, I'll toast it proper with a shot of another potential addiction.