Today is the fist day of the rest of my life! (hopefully)
I have decided, after about 4 failed attempts at quitting, to try, try again as per the immortal words of Robert the Bruce - or was it his spider, I can't remember!
I have tried cold turkey, hypnotherapy, Champix and more Champix - this time I am trying patches, which so far, the one I stuck on this morning is beginning to resemble a limp lettuce and is curling at the edges. Right at this moment, I could happily commit murder to get my hands on just one more 'fag' but I am determined to suffer my way through.
I have already converted a Twiglet tin into my new Quit cash box and lovingly posted £20 through the slit, although right now it seems a very poor exchange for a tin of Golden Virginia and some Rizlas.
I am 53 and have been smoking at least 15, ok, ok I'll be honest, 20 odd a day for the last 30 years, ever since I was gullible enough to believe that it would help me to lose weight! I just ended up fatter, breathless and skint.
I need to quit. I cough like an old pit horse in the mornings, cannot go up a flight of stairs without gasping for breath like a fish out of water and frankly, I smell like an old ash tray - gross.
My poor husband is long suffering - he is one of the sensible ones who never started smoking and has been banging on at me to quit ever since I first met him.
So, this time - oh, please let it be this time, I am going to quit.
Today, I have 'smoked' two biros, made cheese cake, been grumpy, made dinner and am still grumpy. BUT, as Scarlett O'Hara said, tomorrow is another day and maybe it will be better in the morning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!