Day Fourteen

I was so busy celebrating the two week anniversary of the demise of cigarettes in my life that I saved no time to post yesterday. I'm OK with that, however. I had a lovely evening with some of my favorite people in the world, ate some delicious pumpkin pie, and watched a beautiful, slow fire burn in my fireplace rather than down the end of a Camel.

Being the geometric and numerical person that I am, I happen to love 'complete' numbers or sets, like 3 (as in trinity), 5 (half of ten), ten (as in decade or numerical step), etc. Seven, of course, is one of these manufactured 'complete' sets as it designates the passage of a week of time; the fact that this number has occurred now twice regarding my quitting has more than doubled my happiness and self-pride. Two fucking weeks. That is a long time for a smoker to gone without a single cigarette; not even a puff. Hell yeah!

I apologize for the gushy-ness of this post, but I am in one of those moods, given the season and this milestone. I would like to take this time to thank quite possibly the greatest mother-in-law of them all for your persistent love and support. You, somehow, understand me in this moment perhaps better than anyone else in my life and have been the strongest mental crutch for me. I love you. Lauren, it is comforting knowing your eyes and positive intentions diligently follow this blog on a daily basis. Thanks for being here for me. Coleman, thanks for not taking up smoking again and ruining my quitting as I have done to you so many times! And finally, of course, my love, who is willing to put my best interest in front of her own. I finally feel free and clear; no need to care for me anymore! It's finally my turn to coddle you and completely support your new and future endeavors. No more storm...