Just to give you an update: the post I’m working on now has languished in WordPress for over a month, consists of 1401 words in 15 paragraphs, and is only half finished. I believe this situation to be indicative of patterns that exist elsewhere in my life.
At this point I’m comprised of 87% nonsmoker and 13% smoker. I didn’t smoke at all for 21 days, and then, sitting on my patio talking on the phone after a particularly difficult day at work, I lit a cigarette. Smoking it felt unfamiliar, like my hand belonged to someone else, like my lungs weren’t mine, like the smoke in them shouldn’t exist somehow.
So now I smoke a cigarette every two or three days, or sometimes two or three cigarettes every day, but I always make sure I’m alone. I put each cigarette out when it’s 3/4 finished and think to myself, “That wasn’t terribly pleasant, now was it?” Then sometimes I light another one.
When I quit on March 15, I had 2.5 packs left over. Of those 2.5 packs, 6 cigarettes are now left. The reckoning will come when I smoke those 6 cigarettes (over the next 2-13 days). If I want to smoke any more, I’ll have to go buy more, and I’d rather not do that.
The point is that it’s much harder to write when I’m not smoking.