For just a moment this morning, I thought, Just One More. Just one more smoke...to say good bye. Then I remembered the x-ray of my lungs hanging up on his back-lit clipboard and picked up the box of Nicotine Patches.
It said in the instructions the patch needs to be on my upper body, which sucks, becuase I wanted it on my ass. I have an allergy to adhesives, (tape, glue, the non allergenic shit they use at the hospital), My skin melts away under it. The backing on the patch is no different, and I really wanted to avoid the scars.
But I want to quit more.
I put it on my left arm this morning, and will get JJ to put them on my upper back starting tomorrow.
It is 10:45 PM my time, and I have not had a smoke. This isn't to say I haven't wanted one. Or that I haven't done this half-lurch type move, where I go to get the smokes and stop as I remember - no more. Because I have. Lots.
I have tired time and time again to quit smoking, and with the exception of Zyban, I have never lasted a full day. Yay me! Actually I don't feel like celebrating. I will celebrate when my heart doesn't start beating out of my chest, and my hands stop shaking. When I stop reaching for a smoke. Whether that be a week, a month a year, I think that's when I will celebrate. One day? That's too soon.
In other news. I got a new purse! In December I bought myself a purse and wrapped it up and set it under the tree. To:Me; XOX:The Husband. He didn't get to see it until Christmas morning, But it was the best purse ever. I loved it. It was the perfect size, shape, color. Perfect everything. But then it broke it's strap - and my heart.
I had to get my old purse out of the closet becuase I just could not find one I loved as much as the old one. Until tonight, when I took the boys into the city, partly to get away from the house and the smokes (keeping busy really helps me*) and partly to return a gift I had bought for JJ and get a new one. Can't say what it was because every so often The Husband gets off his lazy ass and reads my blog.
(Why yes, those are boobs)
*Scrubbing all the floors in the house by hand only takes three hours, with the kids running around. I considered scrubbing the rocks int he front yard too, but then it started to rain...
Edited to add: Daddy NEVER let's us stop and "waste four bucks on that stupid thing!" Since Daddy was not with us, I became the cool parent who said yes. Click it to make it bigger!