Romancing the Smoke: Apologies for the... - No Smoking Day

No Smoking Day

4,138 members32,251 posts

Romancing the Smoke


Apologies for the blatant movie title theft, (Romancing the Stone), but halfway through my third week, my brain seems dead set on doing just that. I survived withdrawal & the Massive, Bad Cravings. The Big Drama of a Quit is easing off. So... my brain is trying the enticing entrapment, the subtle seduction game. I've noticed that happening especially when the HALT conditions apply.

I picture a cigarette in my mind or one mysteriously 'flies' into my head. Never has cigarette paper looked so thick, so snowy & lush. It's packed fat with a generous helping of tobacco & if I allowed that, no doubt my mind would whisper: "This is the good stuff - ORGANICALLY GROWN. It's better for you!" Uh huh... The smell of tobacco has transmogrified into the subtle perfume of something exotic & expensive. I DESERVE to treat myself to such a wonderful product - I've worked so hard.

Oh, shut up, brain!

The last thing I need is to permit myself to listen to a self-advert created in my own demented mind. Thick, lush, exoric? Who am I kidding? The paper is as thin as they can make it & have the crap stick hold together. The tobacco is withered & dried & the only thing exotic about the smell is a more than passing familiarity to third world sewers.

The Nicodemon only has as much power as *I* choose to give it. I'll start by... removing the capital letter - nicodemon - there; that's cutting it down to size. That's one piece of nastiness that doesn't deserve to be place on a marble pedestal, to be viewed under soft lighting with a string quartet playing in the background.

You know what little master nicodemon is, really? He's a headstrong toddler with all the reasoning power of your average two year old. He stands there & roars: "I WANT! Gimme, gimme or I'll hold my breath until I turn blue!" He doesn't get what he wants so he flings himself on to the floor & drums his little fists & heels into the floor - pitching a massive wobbly. THAT I can deal with. I've raised children - successfully. And when they tried that on, they were unceremoniously packed away to their rooms, firmly peeled off me & told they were staying in their rooms until they could behave in a civilized fashion.

Poor little nicodemon - he's never going to grow up. He doesn't have a clue how to behave in a civil manner. So... he's never going to get to leave that room. In fact, increasingly I find he's taking up too much space & shortly, I shall be packing up his things & relegating them & him to an out of the way cupboard. I've got better uses for the space.

He doesn't look like a big, scary monster to me anymore. Rather, he's a sad cartoon charactor with a perpetual frown & every time he appears, he seems a little smaller. He's not quite as loud anymore either, although I'm sure there will be days when he's shrieking in my ear. Fine, if he wants to try that on - he'll get paddled!

After all, who's the adult?

4 Replies

My struggle with the fags is like another movie by Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas....War of the Roses LOL!.....gonna beat that f***ker with a chandelier in the end :)

Lovely post CanadaSue.

Lisa x

H A L T thanks for the reminder im all of those things together no wonder iv been thinking oh wouldnt a cigarette be nice. its all gone pete tong for me .

Mash x

Obvious (especially this time of year) but...

...The Great Escape!!!

I love it when the exquisitly literate members do these posts that put into words just how you feel :D. Brilliant post Sue!

Just to add to the movie theme, the fact that I have note smoked for three months........

Miracle on 34th Street

You may also like...