Special note: My apologies for my calendar faux pas. Friday, March 1st was Day 27. Not 29 as previously published.
Firstly, let me thank Jennifer-Quit-05-01-14 who messaged me because I've apparently become conspicuous by my absence. My apologies and thanks to Jennifer for reminding me that no one quits alone.
My last post was on Day 23 (Monday the 25th,) and I was thrilled with my clean house. Said house is still clean, but we had such a torrential downpour Tuesday that my pretty, new laundry room flooded. Ordinarily this would have sent me to my cigarette pack and the cocktail bar in the living room, but I called my landlady, (who also happens to be a longtime friend,) instead, and let her know the deal and asked if she had a wet-vac. She and her hubby came over right away, (it was only raining lightly by then) and we quickly discovered the wet vac was missing parts, and that one generally does not wet-vac in the rain anyway because doing so rather defeats the purpose of wet-dry vacuuming.
I found the manufacturer online and ordered the missing parts, and they arrived today, by which time most of the 3/4 " of water in the laundry room had receded from whence it came, leaving the caulking between the baseboards and cement floor in disarray. The contractor will make good on any damage, and aside from this Tuesday incident of High Drama, there has been nothing particularly outstanding about my quit. Which brings me to an important point in this blog: Gratitude.
Some people are grateful for things. I am grateful for the absence of things. I am especially grateful for a conspicuous absence of cravings, SOB, and coughing. It's true that I often get home, tired, and when I sit down to have my coffee and greet Chester, I sense should have a cigarette; but that sensation is, I think, something like body memory. It's just my mind acting out of rote reflex and the sensation passes quickly. But I admit I am fascinated that it occurs at all. It would be interesting to see what, if any, research has been done on this sensation and what it really consists of. It's not a "craving" in the standard sense, it's more like a phantom feeling.
I am also grateful for my newly-acquired energy level. By this, I do not mean to imply I'm now about to consider joining the Boston Marathon; I mean, I can go all day and not feel exhausted, nor need to stop every few hours for a nicotine hit. I can just nibble and graze along and just keep going. This week, I did that for 43.0 hours. I am, therefore, also grateful that Chester is so forgiving and is always glad when I get home, (usually by 5:20) and does not suffer from separation anxiety, nor take his vengeance out on my shoes by gifting them with cat urine. Mostly he's just happy I'm back and can get some fresh food in his bowl or go outside for his evening constitution. Chester is nothing if not sensible.
I'm also grateful I have a doctor who prescribed meds that, (even if I forget a dose,) work as if I didn't, and I can sleep and work without suffering. Lastly, I am grateful for a community that notices when I'm gone and tolerates my mad ramblings with grace and dignity.
Peace and gratitude,