365 days

Today is the 365th day to pass since I quit smoking. The one year anniversary is tomorrow, the 11th.

The bad news is that I still at certain moments crave a cigarette. Or rather, miss smoking. Now, it doesn’t take more than an instant for me to shake my head and utter a wry snort at the idea of resuming the habit. I’ve no interest, much less intention.

One of the more peculiar aspects is having the occasional “using dream,” in which I find myself lighting up for some reason. I immediately feel guilt and extreme disappointment for giving in to the urge. Then I wake up and, despite the relief at it not being for real, still carry a tinge of regret for some time.

I smoked for about 17 years, so I’ve still got 16 to go to beat that record. The good news is that the longer I’ve gone the easier it has gotten not to give in, the less it occurs to me that I was once a daily smoker.

I am immeasurably better off than I was a year and a day ago. And that’s how it works: one day at a time. Nothing any more profound than that.

(2004)