It’s been seven months since my last cigarette.

Notice that I didn’t say it’s been seven months since I quit (for the second time). I quit about a year ago. I think exactly a year ago. But I broke down a few times. The last time was April 19th. So, here I am, seven months later.

I’ve got to be honest, the second time around? Not as cool. It feels less like this awesome accomplishment and more like I’m doing penance. It’s kind of like I got out of jail for good behavior on a ten year sentence for grand theft auto, then I had to go back in for six months for parole violation. The second screw-up just hurts my pride and it’s something to move on from.

I thought that I would write something about it at six months but I forgot. I guess that shows how much of mental energy is spent on cigarettes these days. That’s the best part. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about taking a walk around the block at 3:00 or how many did I have last night or I have three left in this pack should I get another one or should these be the last three I ever smoke? And on and on and on.

It takes a while to get to this place, the indifferent place. It’s not a steady decline, either. It’s more like the desire for cigarettes has a half life. It decays but never truly disappears. I felt the urge a few times since April but both running and my girlfriend’s disgust for cigarettes and bloodhound-esque sense of smell kept me from giving in.

I’m finally back at the point where I look at smokers and think, “What are you doing that for?”

It wasn’t fun starting at day one again. The progression of smoke free time from a week into a month into a few months was very slow. I had two and a half years before I ruined it.

I believe in routine. I’ve learned this about myself. It’s bordering on control freak but, well, if that’s the most annoying thing about me (it probably isn’t) I’m doing okay. Keeping a streak alive is like the flipside of a routine. Instead of doing something every day, you remind yourself not to do something every day. The longer the streak grows, the stronger my resolve to keep it going.

I can’t say I won’t ever go back because I can’t predict the future. I can say I never want to go back and that’ll get me through today.