Well Well Well

The disaster I prophesied weeks ago never really came to pass. I'm not in the horrible bit of a quit at all. I'm having horrible moments, of course - that goes with the territory - but not the really scary stuff I was expecting that has happened in other quits. Oh well. Every quit is different. I should be grateful.

Perhaps it's because I'm eating like a pig. I've put on 6lbs since I quit.

I still think about smoking all the time, and I still think of excuses to smoke. If I can lose a stone by Xmas, I can smoke! If I go to the dentist and get my teeth sorted, I can smoke! If I live through 'til Xmas, I can smoke! If this mouth ulcer doesn't go away I can smoke!

I shall soon have saved 600 quid. I'm at 591 at the moment. I would spend it on something big, but I continually trickle it out (finally got around to ordering the Bat for Lashes and the two Arcade Fire albums, and also ordered The Flipside Of Dominick Hide/Another Flip For Dominick double DVD), so I've probably spent a couple of hundred of that 600 quid since I quit. Even with the book/DVD/CD outgoings, though, there is still enough of the "savings" left over for an Epiphone SG copy. Or a Pentax K100D. Hmmm.

I'm sure I will buy more "cultural" stuff. But I really must stop buying books. I've got over 300 of the damned things to read as it is. But, unfortunately, there is always Postscript books and their abominable bargain books!

Temptation Hill

I suppose I'd better start by saying:

Two months, one week, 7 hours, 5 minutes and 28 seconds. 2048 cigarettes not smoked, saving £563.43. Life saved: 1 week, 2 hours, 40 minutes.

and see what nonsense we can pull from those statistics.

Well, I have been too busy to look at my statistics recently, so am first struck that I passed 2000 ciggies not smoked at some point on Saturday night. And I can imagine what that stack of empty packets looks like. Easily as tall as my desk, much taller in fact.

I see I've also recently saved over a week of my life. A bit of an unbelievable statistic, but fun nonetheless. And the money saved continues to climb.

In the end, I bought neither a double-neck Epiphone nor a Gibson SG with the money saved (although just saying the names of those objects makes me want to buy them), as I decided I'm not that rich. I did treat myself to a polarising filter and a remote control for my camera however.



I recently visited our local UFO-spotting hill in the company of other ancient skywatchers as a nostalgic treat. It was a lovely night, and was 1976 all over again. Nobody saw any UFOs, but I think people enjoyed being there again. However, the number of skywatchers who smoke is surprising. I was sorely tempted. Still, I did get to stand next to a load of smokers and smell their lovely, lovely smoke.

I was thinking, while breathing in their lovely smoke, that if I were to fail in my quit, I'd have to "teach" myself to smoke again. I wouldn't have been able to just bum a fag from a ufologist and smoke it there and then. That would be far too nauseating. No, I would have to allow my body to acclimatise to the toxins. I would have to have a drag and then put the ciggie out. Then after twenty minutes, have perhaps two drags. And so on until I'd had a complete fag. But even then, I would feel faintly nauseous, and so I wouldn't have another for an hour or so. But I would have it. After the second or third cigarette, I would just feel generally ill -- slightly nauseous, and probably developing a headache.

But I wouldn't let that put me off. I'd still smoke another one, and another. Then I'd go to bed, and have colourful dreams.

But the next morning I'd be an adapted smoker. And the cigarette I'd have when I woke up would be the only cigarette I'd consciously enjoy, ever.

I wonder where Dolores is?

Two Months Done

So, I've just crawled over the line of two months done:

Two months, 13 hours, 47 minutes and 5 seconds. 1847 cigarettes not smoked, saving £507.99. Life saved: 6 days, 9 hours, 55 minutes.

And also recently passed the "saved 500 quid" mark.

Time is really dragging though. So for all you people who think time passes too quickly as you get older, my advice would be to smoke for twenty years, and then give up. Suddenly time will seem to move like black treacle though warm butter floating in cool honey whipped with mayonnaise and olive oil.

Hey ho. What can I say? Quitting doesn't get any easier yet. I mean, I knew that anyway. My body rebels though. Smoke now, it says. Accelerate time! Stop the body weirdnesses! You're just going to die anyway! Nothing has changed, your eye still hurts, you're still too fat, you're short of breath, and your teeth are rotting anyway. Just give up giving up and get back to smokey land where at least you don't eat like a pig and drink tea like a fish that likes tea.

What can I spend five hundred quid on?

John would suggest this:

http://www.guitarampkeyboard.com/en/74297

and it is 50 quid less than my savings so far... But...

Time Really Does Slow Down

It's true. And of course, that means that everything else seems to speed up. I mean, look:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sw8X5-H6LRc&mode=related&search=

Got any Speed?

Lordy, I'm tired.

Looks like we've lost Dolores and Modern Monkey, so I guess you'll have to rely on me for entertainment. Yet, to read for entertainment about somebody who is giving up smoking is madness.

Nonetheless. Here we are:

One month, two weeks, five days, 17 hours, 13 minutes and 17 seconds. 1491 cigarettes not smoked, saving £410.17. Life saved: 5 days, 4 hours, 15 minutes.

Approaching 1500 fags not smoked. What's that... 75 packets of twenty? Wonder how high that would stretch? I'm feeling very tired. Some quit smoking groups aver that the tiredness many a quitter feels is because our bodies are healing. They could be right. All I know is - I'm knackered, pretty much constantly. I suppose I might always have been tired, but hadn't realised as I boosted my metabolism with nicotine.

I'll tell you what though - I could do with a fag.

I realised something today though. Spending 20 quid a month on the Lottery is stupid when I could save those 20s for 6 months and spend 120 quid on Premium bonds. At least with the Premium bonds there still a bit of a gambling element going on, but I can get my stake back. And the odds are better. Not that the 20 quid a month on the lottery has ever been a regular thing.

I don't gamble (much), I don't drink, I don't chase women (might flirt a bit), I don't eat fine food nor go on exotic holidays. The only thing I ever did that was crazy and enjoyable was smoke.

And yet - nearly seven weeks have gone by without a migraine...

Now the Cravings Really Begin

Have been quiet lately as I had a major car-related problem -- it stopped working, and I had to get a new one, and all the travails associated with that. But now I have a new old one, and note this morning that it has a puncture, and I can't be bothered to jack it up at the moment.

Because I've given up smoking a few times, I'm always amazed by the blithe insistence of some quit sites - especially those biased towards the "cognitive quitting" - that the cravings soon pass, that they are no worse than the cravings you get when you want a cigarette while smoking, that the cravings diminish with time, and if you just never put that cigarette in your mouth, everything will be fine and dandy.

Now, while the last statement is true -- and, so far, I have resisted the one, just one -- I'm here to tell you that, for this quitter, months two, three and four are the hardest. The cravings I get from here on for the next couple of months aren't some little tug at the edges of my consciousness, like the desire for another cigarette when I was smoking, but in another league altogether. This desire is difficult to describe. But it is a real desire, made worse because it is thwarted, and not by improbability, like say, my desire for a million quid. It is a desire that could quite easily and simply be sated, but which I have to resist.

These cravings are not something that pass within two or three minutes, as many cognitive quitters insist, but something that can haunt me for fifteen to twenty minutes at a time, and sometimes longer, much, much longer.

The craving feels very physical. Located somewhere around the chest, but also spreading into my whole body and making me feel tired. A feeling of aching emptiness.

So wish me luck as I voyage into the next three months where it gets really, really, difficult.

One month, two weeks, 8 hours, 22 minutes and 21 seconds. 1330 cigarettes not smoked, saving £365.88. Life saved: 4 days, 14 hours, 50 minutes.