There are now huge chunks of time (read: almost 24 hours) where I don't think about smoking a single puff. It's nice, although what I really want is to not think about cigarettes at all. One of the reasons I quit was because I was tired of how much they ruled my day. It still feels like that sometimes. Like I can almost see the ghost of a Cigarette King in the corner of my mind, still wearing his jeweled crown, still sitting on his high throne, waving his matchstick scepter whenever I feel like I might be finally, really, actually over it. I want to break that matchstick.
