I said a post or two ago that it's never a good idea to make public pronouncements, but announced this must be. So here I am announcing.
I've quit before, at times for years. This last setback lasted six months. Maybe I was at a more vulnerable time of my life, more in need of consolation, but whatever--I just couldn't stay away. The last time I was pregnant, nine years ago, I hadn't smoked in years so quitting wasn't an issue. When Hedgie was two or three, I became grimly depressed, and returned to the habit. I would sit outside on our stoop, hiding from motherhood, lighting up and daydreaming. Then I quit again, then I started again. And here I am again.
My love affair with smoking is like a horrible sexual attraction gone terribly wrong, a man who beats you but loves you too and to whom you can't help but return again and again.
I feel like screaming. If this sounds overwrought, well, I tell you, a madness has seized me.
This is definitely the sort of post that one takes down when one realizes how much one has embarrassed one's self.
Updated: Remember not to tell me it's a bad unhealthy habit, because let's be honest, it looks sexy, smells delicious, and helps smooth out the rough spots. Those public service ads on tv showing the ill effects of smoking? They just make me run for my pack. My breath is like an ashtray? Kiss me and you'll find it tastes sweet, I guarantee.
All that said.......heeeeelllllllppppp!!!!!!!