Bet you weren't expecting a Brokeback reference today, were you? Ok, maybe you were.
I ran across this post on our friend's blog Irrelevant, where he details his struggles with nicotine addiction. I have also undertaken the long, arduous process of attempting to quit sucking on cancer sticks, and, believe it or not, it's harder than it sounds.
I've been contemplating the lifestyle change for some time now, mostly because smoking is gross, expensive and life-threatening. (Very similar to unprotected sex with Haitian prostitutes, except for the expensive part.)
But smoking also has many positives that I feel the anti-smoking Nazis refuse to acknowledge in their jihad to help people live healthier lives. For instance, when you're sitting at home alone drowning your sorrows with bourbon, nothing helps stoke the thirst for more bourbon than drying out your mouth with a Pall Mall. Smoking is also a great way to overhear interesting and humorous conversations, particularly on crowded smoking patios at bars. Sometimes you'll even meet people because of the habit. Smoking is a great short-term antidote to work/relationship/financial/loneliness-related stress. And nothing tastes better after a meal than a smooth, refreshing trip to Flavor Country.
But lately, I've been looking to the future, and my future self doesn't smoke. So I've made the commitment to begin to start to consider quitting smoking. I even made the dramatic gesture in New York (after some light-hearted nagging from my friend) of tossing my half-full pack of smokes into a subway trash can (knowing full well I had another two packs in my bag back at the apartment.) I don't think she bought it.
So here I sit, a week later, and I'm still smoking. I've tried to quit three times since New York, and even though my bank account would make a hobo snicker, each time I've gone and purchased a pack within hours of smoking my last. I blame my weak will, my current agonizing solitude, and my chemical addiction to nicotine.
So, basically, this is my cry for help. I want to quit; I need to quit. But how? How do I satiate my oral fixation, my need for nicotine, my insecurity-fueled need to look cool? I'm begging for suggestions.
Dan, be nice.