The Dreaded TOMORROW!

I am writing this blog entry, enjoying one of my last cigarettes ever. Tomorrow is the day that I quit smoking, completely. I can only hope it goes well. Tonight I will clean up my ashtrays, put away my lighters and other stuff that reminds me of smoking, as well as post small reminders around my room about why I decided to quit in the first place. I know I'm going to miss a lot of things about smoking, but I have to remind myself that I am doing this for the better.

I will miss when I'm out with friends just relaxing and smoking. Most of all I'm going to miss that moment, mid-conversation, where we both reach for our packs and unsheath our lighters to mutually enjoy the flavor of a perfectly packed cigarette. It always seems like a pack of cigarettes makes the coversations last longer and delve deeper. There is something about a cigarette that offers some sort of connection between two people. It might be the social stigma that goes along with smoking. At that moment you pull that square box out of your pocket, you both realize that you are equals, neither better than the other. Your common vice has you hooked and weakened to the point of needing it on a daily basis. Both of you are connected to each other through the inhalation of the lucious flavorful smoke as it travels to your lungs and is absorbed into your bloodstream and offeres you a deeper relaxation as it hits your brain. As the recepters accept the nicotine, you feel a euphoria that allows you to let your guard down. Just like a fear of public speaking is abated by picturing the audience naked and vulnerable, the guards set by personal interraction are dissolved with the mutual satisfaction brought on by nicotine. Have you ever noticed how a smoker and non-smoker interract? there is always that rift between the two of you. The smoker focuses on not getting smoke or ashes on their companion as the non-smoker is distracted by the burn of the cherry and the sexiness, or disgustingness, of the other person's habits. This keeps the conversation guarded and aloof.

Tomorrow morning, when I wake up, I will wake up an Ex. No longer can I enjoy the safety of a smoke. On my nightstand I don't have a pack of cigarettes, but a pack of gum and a nicotine patch. Wish me luck!