Today was a “progress and patience” kind of day.
I picked up the Christmas cards at Kinko’s—the ones starring Whiskey the Kitty. The kid is a natural model. Her little tuxedo face sits right on the front like she’s selling designer perfume or endorsing her own brand of catnip. They printed beautifully, and seeing that art in my hands felt like one more gift from quitting smoking: I can create, finish a project, and actually enjoy it.
Later, we let Whiskey play in a designated room of the house under supervision. She kicked her little red ball around like a miniature soccer prodigy, zig-zagging with crazy kitten confidence. She even got a moment of bonding with Herbie, mom’s cat. I don’t know if it was bonding or a standoff between two furry gladiators, but when the claws looked like they might start flying, the bell rang and Whiskey was back in her carrier and then into her's and my art room upstairs. Safety first. She may be tiny, but she’s got an empire to run.
I had eaten an early dinner. I made one of my favorites—corned beef hash and eggs. But not just any corned beef hash. My version is cooked to a perfect crisp, sunny side up eggs laid right over the top, and then shredded cheddar cheese melted in between the hash and the eggs, like a hidden treasure. The moment the cheese hits the pan, the whole kitchen smells like victory and cholesterol.
And then—like it always does—the craving hit.
That old, familiar whisper: You know what would go perfect with this meal? A cigarette.
It’s amazing how fast our brains pair food with smoke, like wine with chocolate or coffee with cream. It doesn’t even ask permission—it just barges through the door like an old friend who never left a key. But that’s all the craving is: a desire. And wanting something doesn’t mean I have to act on it. I can want a cigarette the same way I want a Ferrari: it doesn’t mean I’m going to go buy one.
Craving reminds me of all the smoking I did throughout the years. It reminds me of the damage done, the harm that stacked up like scar tissue. I still have to get my chest x-rayed and my CT scan soon because breathing has become harder, and I’d rather know what’s going on now than wait until things fall apart. If I can catch something early, I might save myself a whole lot of suffering—maybe even my life.
So yeah, the cravings try to show up at dinner like uninvited guests. But I can say no. I can enjoy my food, enjoy my cat, enjoy my art, and enjoy this new life I’m building.
I got this.
by Dan and Bonkers
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403txx