I remember it well. At just gone 6pm, exactly three years ago, I pulled down the blind at the ticket office window. My working day was done. I went out the back door. It was a dark, damp evening. I lit up a cigarette. A Pall Mall Red, with a little menthol cartridge in the … Continue reading Three Years Quitversary
It's a big day. A day for celebration, high fives and fist bumps. A day that was over thirty years in the making. A day where I fully deserve a pat on my back. But because of the plague, I'm just going to have to have this celebratory party here, virtually, with you. With virtual … Continue reading One Year Anniversary
I am a serial quitter. I quit. Then I quit quitting. And repeat. I've written posts promising, threatening, suggesting I will quit many times before. The repetitive nature of my posts tells you that I haven't quit. I am still a foul, filthy stinky smoker. I've tried patches, gum, electronic cigarettes. But I'm a resilient soul, not put off … Continue reading The Quitter
I quite distinctly remember my first cigarette. Or at least the first I smoked with any zeal, as opposed to the curious, but functionally defective puffs on a menthol cigarette stolen from a chum's mum. I refer instead to a cigarette where I sucked the fumes all the way into my lungs. Just a wisp … Continue reading Digital Quitter
The Mexile 