January 8th, 2009

I used to buy cigarettes by the carton. Sometimes several cartons at a time. I'd open them and stack the individual packages up inside a cupboard above the stove. And I'd feel the same kind of warm glow that I felt when I filled the freezer with meat or the crisper with vegetables. The contentment of abundance. Safe for another week.

Now that I've quit smoking, I have an empty cupboard above my stove, and if you think that I feel good about that, you'd be wrong. I'd never go back to smoking again, but there are times and there are things about it that make me miss it. You don't just dramatically alter your lifestyle and not spend some time learning to live with the changes, no matter how healthy they are for you. Smoking was the last of the wild rides.

There is no doubt that it made me a better person for a) having my reprobate streak of smoking, drinking, carousing, and other trouble-making, followed by b) Becoming a nice respectable upstanding proper little citizen afterwards. I did them both (man) and I can really truly appreciate the value in them both.

So many fewer regrets than the nervous nellies who didn't dare make a little trouble for themselves.

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