Sixty Eight Weeks ~

Yes, it's true ... 68 weeks, 475 days of not smoking. The minutes, days, weeks, months, just keep mounting up.

I have not forgotten the minute by minute of anxiety I suffered in the first few days, weeks, and even the first three months really.

I have always said I wanted to be a non-smoker, NOT an anti-smoker ... but I have to be honest here, I've become hyper sensitive to the stale smell of cigarette smoke in people's clothes. I wonder now how I lived like that for thirty years. And worse ... how I made my family endure it also.

Life is so different now than it was when I started smoking though. When I started I could ride my bike to the Vicker's Station and buy a pack for .50 cents. Seriously. And smoking was everywhere, inside and out. I guess we all just got used to it.

Today however, (not to say I never miss it because there are often times I do) but as for now, I'm enjoying the fresh air.