Failed this afternoon. I was smoke-free for twenty hours, which is quite pathetic to be honest!
I smoked my last cigarette at 6pm last night. After which, Jane and I went out and had a lovely meal for Valentines/to celebrate me getting past the twelve weeks at Asda, and I didn’t have a nicotine related pang at all. We got home and watched a Jimmy Carr DVD, then went to bed. I was feeling good at that point – in fact, I was feeling good at work today too. I got up, had a cup of green tea and a yoghurt, had a shower, got ready for work, got the bus to work, and generally done some work at work. I even spent an hour on the checkouts and it was fine, I wasn’t stressed or grouchy, I was feeling great. I went for lunch, had a sandwich and a drink, then, five minutes before I was due to go back, I had an irresistible urge to go and buy some cigarettes. So I went and bought some cigarettes, and smoked one.
I’m annoyed at myself for giving in so fucking easily. It’s not like I was moping, or generally being an ass because I wanted a cigarette, I was fine. More than fine in fact, I felt great. I cannot understand why I gave in so easily. Maybe I read the book too quickly, I was kind of in a rush to finish it last night. Maybe I didn’t absorb the information because I read it so quickly, I don’t know.
I think I’ll read the book again, at a slower pace, give myself time to absorb and understand it, then have another go.
