I’m beginning to not feel the need for a cigarette after having a pint.

I had my last cigarette close to 10 weeks ago. 3 weeks after that I had my next last cigarette.
Yes I enjoy smoking, and yes I would love one right now, yet I feel it is time to end that part of my life, and the cravings haven’t been so bad this time either.

Maybe I’ll take it up again when they don’t tax the shit out of it, oh and when it doesn’t give you cancer…

A couple of months ago – only a week from my last cigarette and out for a meal and drink with some photographers/bloggers I almost begged John and Peter for one. They refused. I wasn’t so happy at the time.

However, I was in fact determined to quit then, and I did.

Yes there are plenty of methods of quitting: Nicotine replacement therapy, prescription drugs, patches, gum, lozenges, nasal spray, antidepressants, hypnotherapy, vaporizers, electronic cigarettes, acupuncture, self-help books, spirituality, group therapy etc. Most of these are bull shit — though apparently they work for some. I tried the gum once, but it make me feel ill.

A friend once quit and swore by Allen Carr’s book, He became one of those righteous non-smokers, preaching the word of this book, telling everyone how, on the first page you are told to light a cigarette as you read and suddenly, as you are reading you will not want to light another. He was smoking again a few months later.

I’m not saying I’m better than anyone else, or that my method (of just not smoking) for the last while is any better either. I wasn’t a 40-a-day sorta guy. There is the phrase that goes ‘once a smoker, always a smoker’. I know people who have quit many years and still want one today.

I’ll miss the camaraderie of the smoking area of a pub — and especially since Lavery’s bar has a huge smoking area with a bar on its first floor — and with summer coming there’ll be the heat and much time spent in these out-door spaces, completely with a great atmosphere. Yeah I’ll want one then.

And the excuse to take a break from whatever arduous task I’m up against, something to do at the bus stop, the habitual “night cap”, or simply to procrastinate for a bit. I won’t miss the smell or being in the minority — even if I did look cool while doing it.

There is an art to rolling — and after many years, I did master it (occasionally mixing other “herbal remedies”) and as much fun as it is — as a lifestyle, it’s no longer one I wish to pursue; I’ve never been one for dark and dingy, smoke-filled pubs, preferring natural light, and to remain indoors when it’s cold and wet, rather than seeking shelter for that mini high — out of boredom and routine.

Something I’ve always agreed with:

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