Week 2: Not Smoking

I write this with admonishment to myself. This Tuesday, on my birthday, I inhaled a sweet puff of sin. Habits die if you lay them to rest for good, and though mine was carefully buried, it finally resurrected itself this last week.

I was celebrating in the desert with close friends when I heard that familiar snapping lighter sound burn that virgin tabacco and its blanket paper. I forced myself to ignore the aroma at first, pretending it wasn't there. My friend questioned my lack of participation. She quit another friend announced. Okay, no pressure. No one pushed, no one judged. It was me, I, who betrayed myself. "Well, it is a special occassion, I mean it IS my birthday." Oops. I guess I did never shake that foot-in-mouth syndrome I've been fighting all these years. On a positive note, my friends did seem happier at my attendance of the ritual smoke session. I mean, I couldn't just leave them hanging right?

I celebrated my birthday again the next day with my family and did that whole "well, what's one more time gonna hurt" justification and smoked again. I promise that is the last time though. Its all out of my system (just keep telling yourself that Kasia: Its all out of my system). And well, now I'm restarting that good streak again, which begs the question: Can I title this blog "Week 2" or should I name it "Day 1-- Part II"?

Practice makes perfect anyway, so I'll just chalk this one up to practice. This time I'll make sure nails are secure on this habit's coffin.