Becoming a non-smoker

Slowly but surely. I'm becoming a non-smoker. I can feel my superiority growing inside me like a tumor.

It's fed with a variety of cheerful non-smoking podcasts, that tell me that I am becoming a better, stronger person for freeing myself from the tyranny of nicotine. Every day that I'm smoke free I can feel it eating away at my coolness, my laid-back ways are being ruthlessly devoured from the inside out.

Sadly, the only cure is the sweet sweet vapors of a burning stick of tobacco. Oh the irony!

I have a little meter on my computer that tells me how long I've been smoke free and how much money I've saved. Sure I can see that my physical self is slowly healing, but what about my soul? It doesn't tell me how much longer I have until I turn into one of those obnoxious soulless monstrosities, the non-smoker.

How long is the gestation of self-satisfied smugness before it rips out of my abdomen and gobbles up the people I used to love and respect? How much longer before I turn into a preachy, complaining, self-righteous blowhard trying to shame people into quitting?

How much longer have I got doc? How much longer before my soul cries out to the heavens in its raspy smoke-etched voice - "Get this girl back on the pack before she ends up losing her entire identity to good health and a balanced lifestyle! Save us oh lord from our salvation!"

Or can I have it all? Can I have my health and smoke it too?

G