Today was a big adventure in Whiskey Kitty’s world.
Instead of carrying her downstairs like a royal passenger, we opened the door and let her make the journey on her own. Freedom with supervision, the feline version of a passport. I still worry about the back door and the great unknown beyond it, so we kept that sealed tight. No unauthorized expeditions today.
She padded down cautiously, nose first, inspecting the kitchen and dining room like a tiny health inspector looking for crumbs, lost treasures, or evidence of snack activity. New territory, new smells, new discoveries. After a thorough investigation, she made her way to the family room, climbed her cat tree, and settled onto her perch by the window. There she sat, watching the outside world like a quiet philosopher in a tuxedo.
She’s a good kitty. Calm, curious, and confident. We love her for it.
And in her own way, she reminds me: once again, I got this.
On the smoking front, the battle showed up early this morning. That slippery feeling crept in, the old routine whispering: go to the store, get tea… and cigarettes. I could feel the habit trying to hitch a ride on something ordinary.
Instead of acting on it, I told my mother exactly what was going on. Out loud, the urge lost some of its power. Then I changed the plan and had the tea delivered. No store. No opportunity. Small decision, big victory.
I’m still not counting days. In fact, I’ve already lost track, and that’s fine. This isn’t a scoreboard. It’s a lifestyle shift. Let’s see if this works.
There’s more on my mind than cigarettes right now. I’m being tested for three serious illnesses, and that reality sits quietly in the background like distant thunder. At the same time, I have big plans for my art and books this year. Real plans. Fundable plans. Smoke-free plans.
After so much moving, instability, and uncertainty, settling here with my mother has left me tired. If I followed pure impulse, I’d probably sit outside all day with a cigarette, watching the hours drift by.
But that life is exactly what I’m walking away from.
Instead, something better is happening. My confidence is coming back. Not loud, not dramatic. Just steady. Like Whiskey Kitty climbing down the stairs on her own, exploring carefully, and finding her perch.
New territory. Same goal.
Once again, I got this.
by Dan and Bonkers
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