Happy Mondays all! A little story from yesterday, during which I came very close to posting an SOS.
Ten days into my quit and everything is going well. If anything, it was going a little too easy; part of me was wanting a crave to hit so I could strengthen my resolve, but no – not until yesterday.
I had a meeting with a new business partner. But it was Sunday, it was sunny, so we have that meeting in a pub garden. Once drinks were bought he deposits the contents of his pockets onto the garden table: wallet, keys ... and a packet of cigarettes.
I don’t know him too well and didn’t know he smokes. As we spoke, I couldn’t take my eyes of the packet – I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, could barely even listen. Just staring at the pack. There was a health warning – the one about strokes with a picture of man about my age slumped against a wall – but that didn’t really bother me. I just wanted the contents of that pack.
The moment passed. Probably only lasted a minute or two, but seemed a lot longer. Fortunately, part of my brain was also screaming 'POST AN SOS' and that thought alone seemed enough to ride it out. So the first real threat to my quit was defeated and I ended the day very proud of myself. ?
Ps: Here’s the weird thing: we were maybe in the pub an hour. The cigs sat on the table the whole time, but he didn’t smoke one. What the heck is that about?
