A Cigarette, Please?

I've been an "ex-smoker" for about five years I think now. The best part of that sentence is the phrase "I think", because when you are still a struggling addict, you'll know down to the minute the last time you smoked.

(Note: Just for truth's sake, I have had a cigarette here and there, and have had one a bit more recently than I'll likely admit - but you aren't asking, so I ain't telling.)

However, it isn't unlikely that when daydreaming about a theoretical conversation I'll picture myself with a ciggie in my mouth. Why is that? Smoking is not a part of my life in any way, so why would it creep into my thoughts so often?

So I find it so strange to me how it still permeates my brain. I guess it's sort of like how an alcoholic is always an alcoholic - you might preface their title with Recovering, but essentially once you're an alcoholic you always are.

Well I guess I'll always be a smoker.

When I quit, the hardest part was separating cigarettes from my identity. I thought smokes were a solid, unnegotiable aspect of my persona - which made it difficult to give up. But they are not; I am a fully functional and whole person without them.

...except in my head. But of course we do some other terrible, unspeakable things in there as well. The cigarettes aren't the worst of it.

P.S. I'm still also compulsively watching Snack Attack at least one a day, sometimes more. And every time I laugh out loud. That sketch is pure genius.