“The things you do aren’t good for my health”
Dangerous by Depeche Mode

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It’s no secret that I’ve smoked cigarettes for years. I’ve considered those little nasty little smoke-filled sticks friends for (on and off) about 20 years now. They were my morning wake-up-with-coffee compatriot, a midday treat when the world got complicated and my late-night editing partner.

My pack of ‘cancer sticks’ changed around a lot. I’d always settle for a Marlboro light but what I often wanted was a Camel light after dinner, a Du Maurier with a good book, an American Spirit when just hanging out or a Lucky Strike when drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon down at Roberts.

The act itself was sometimes glamourous though I can’t say I ever did it because some famous (or mildly famous) person did it. My parents don’t smoke. Only some of my friends do. I just enjoyed it.

Well, now I’ve quit. It’s been 5 days since my last smoke. Not very long I know, but long enough for me to start feeling the effects. I’m breathing easier, my alergies are subsiding and my friends & coworkers have started to believe me when I say that I don’t want to bum a smoke (I’ve trained them so well).

(here’s to hoping my insurance company doesn’t read my blog)