So its officially three weeks that I've stopped smoking, actually its two weeks, six days, twenty-two hours and forty minutes, not that I'm counting or anything. At the moment the picture to left is my porn and fantasy still.
On the plus side my health is better. Actually it isn't in any visible way. I wasn't coughing before so I haven't stopped coughing. My blood pressure was too high before and still is, although I am willing to believe the suggestion that it still too high due to the temporary stress of quitting smoking.
I probably smell better, but then I couldn't smell me before.
I have saved a lot of money, which I have spent mainly on chips and chocolate, thus removing the money, and adding to my weight problem.
The garden is looking better as I have been attacking the weeds each time I felt like attacking a family member. After some consideration I have decided that I should have started digging a hole and continued each time I felt like attacking a family member. Now I'd have a swimming pool, or at least a hole big enough for whichever family member had annoyed me the most. (That's probably why the shovel was hidden along with the knives and spoons.)
It would appear that my sense of humour is returning, although at the moment it is a distant speck on the horizon, laughing at me , not with me.
I did however have a breakthrough this morning. I was at the checkout behind someone who smelt of stale cigarettes. It smelt horrible. I tapped them on the shoulder and said, " You stink, thank-you." Well, no I didn't. I have always hated the smell of stale cigarettes, except for the past three weeks, for which time they have smelt like some strange exotic food dish enticing me onwards. Now I just have to conquer the smell of fresh smoke.