Ironic, a word that's plagued me for many years, sometimes with a smile and sometimes with a mighty frown. Today I find it particularly ironic that as Mrs D celebrates one year free from the beast that is nicotine, I'm smoking a cigarette. Because I enjoy it? no, because it makes me look cool? no. So why? I hear you ask. The truth of the matter is I yet again believed the age old lie that it would be different this time, that if I smoked one, the obsession would go away. Of course this has once more proved to be bullshit and all I want to do is smoke more.
You see the facts are quite clear, I'm simply not a good smoker. Nor for that matter have I any reason to believe I ever will be. Right about now my Dad is confined to his bed in a old peoples home with very little chance of leaving other then in a box. The main reason? smoking like mad mick mac smoke all his life. That age old image of a real cool dude is kind of blown out of the water when you see someone slowly suffocating to death. It's just not the sort of thing that drags you in with a vision of hope. Yet I still smoked.
So whats the answer in the face of such pure insanity. Long term I'm not really sure. What I do know is that this is a merry go round I've been on many times and to be honest, I'm getting just a little bit dizzy. All I know for sure is that I've dumped the smokes before, so I can do it again. Seems the most important thing I can do is to never give up on giving up. And as is always the case, now is as good a time as any. Stop it today and I can say my last smoke was on the same day Mrs D celebrated her one year. I'm fairly sure from the dizzy heights of her spiritual mount it'll go down well. I know if the glove was on the other foot, it would for me.