This week was a tough one.
I think I finally got past my comfort zone. I found myself looking at my watch a lot more often than I had been.
I also blew up at my wife. We had something bad happen to us. Well, in the scheme of things, it wasn’t that bad, but at the time it was the worst thing that could possibly happen. In reality, I’ll probably struggle to remember it just a few months from now. But the stress from work, the bad thing, and a lack of nicotine sent me over the line.
Today I upped the period to 1:45. That leaves me at 9 cigarettes a day, just over a third of what I was smoking before I started quitting.
I’ve started getting disappointed when I finish a cigarette. Not “I wish I could smoke another one right now,” but rather “I waited an hour and a half for this?” This is the first step to “It’s not even worth buying these things.” At least, I hope it is.
I don’t want to give the impression that this endeavor has been overwhelmingly difficult. Sure, I sometimes wish I could smoke more often, but it hasn’t been that much of a struggle. On a certain level, I enjoy it. Of course, we’ll see how much I still enjoy it a month from now.
Jennifer, I know I apologized to you already, but I want to do it again here, in front of God and everybody: I’m really sorry I blew up on you like that. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t that big of a deal, and I overreacted big time.
