When I finally quit smoking, it was as if I had a parrot on my shoulder, squawking into my ear " Get out of bed, smoke a cigarrette. Finish a meal, smoke a cigarette. Take a break, smoke a a cigarette!"
For the first few weeks, that parrot sat on my shoulder, squawking at me so loud sometimes I couldn't really hear what other people were saying. Later, it moved across the room, still squawking at me, but easier to ignore. It got further and further away. Sometimes I went for hours without noticing it.
Then, at about the 6 weeks mark, there was a block party. The neighbor who I used to bum cigarettes from all the other times I'd quit was lighting one up. I couldn't stand it, I wanted to grab it out of his hand. I stared at his hand, transfixed, and it was as if God himself rolled back the clouds and boomed, "SMOKE A CIGARETTE"
At that very moment, someone yelled, "Head's up!" and I saw a football hurtling toward the picnic table full of food dishes and surrounded by little kids. Now, I'm a small woman, totally unathletic, and I've never caught a football in my life. But, I reached up and neatly caught that ball with two hands, I simply snatched it from the air as it sailed near me.
I was convinced at that moment, that God was watching, and so I tossed the ball back and went home. I haven't ever wanted a cigarette since. At all. Ever. Never touched one.
