Another one bites the dust

I made it through yet another day without a cigarette.

Can I just say -- can I *please* just say -- how absolutely benign this is all beginning to feel? I'm starting to think I shouldn't blog about it. "Ho hum, didn't smoke for another day, blah dee blah, Chantix rocks." I must sound like a broken record.

But that's the thing: I didn't smoke for another day. It wasn't even terribly difficult. Like most of my days since, oh, the fourth quit day. I just don't think about smoking. When I do think about it, I tell myself, "Move on," and I do. As a result -- I'm not smoking. I don't buy cigarettes. I don't light them. I am not smoking.

And somehow, it all seems utterly pedantic to keep prattling on about how I'm not smoking.

Yesterday, my first dose of Chantix was so late before I remembered it that I actually had nausea for the first time in weeks. And then I totally forgot to take the night time dose.

If I can forget to take the drug -- and I can forget to smoke the cigarette -- doesn't that make me an ... ex-smoker?

I have stress. My children rely on me for their education; there's a tree falling down in the back yard; I had a North American marsupial in my laundry room; my air conditioning broke for the millionth time in the last seven years. Bills have to be paid; dinner has to be cooked. My hair still doesn't trip my zizz wheel.

Stress happens. It happens all the time, to absolutely everyone. It isn't enough to make me want to light a cigarette and un-do all the NOT smoking I've done over the past couple of weeks.

So I'm not sure it's worth mentioning that I made it through another day without a cigarette. Maybe I should start posting every third day. Maybe then it will be more relevant.

But I have to say -- if you're a smoker, and you're researching Chantix... I endorse this drug wholeheartedly. I cannot possibly be the only one responsible for my quitting. It has to be the Chantix.