Today is Smoke-free Day 212.
Another "non-smoker style" thing because it's on my mind (because my trip is just around the corner, yay!). So many aspects of life really are different on this side of the smoking divide, and for the most part the grass has been greener. Much. Before long and directly related to the aforementioned air travel, we are going to be houseguests. While there are some other things I stress about when thinking of being a good guest, I am so very, very relieved not to have to look like and act like the total addict I used to be when staying with non-smoking people I know fairly well but not enough to not still feel like a guest.
Houseguest as Non-smoker Me:
Arrive. Greet gracious hosts. Stay. Figure out best way to be a good houseguest without overstepping boundaries throughout the stay (like wanting to walk into the kitchen to cook a nice meal for everyone - OK? Not OK? We'll see). If anyone notices or asks about me not smoking anymore, mention my experience with Chantix (never know who will tell who), otherwise probably don't. Thank hosts and say good-bye.
Houseguest as Smoker Me:
Arrive. Greet gracious hosts. Very shortly after arrival (but after already thinking about it considerably) try to ferret out the best place to smoke. "Best" meaning someplace not right in front of a window where people (and especially their kids) will see me be an addict, but also someplace where, ideally, I have some kind of view so that I feel like I'm doing something other than just, well, standing alone outside sucking on poison because that's kind of nutty if you think about it. About every hour that we are awake, go stand in that place and smoke, no matter what we are in the middle of doing. Repeat at their house or no matter where we go because addiction takes no holiday, no matter how interesting new places can be. At the home of the gracious hosts, wonder what to do with the butts depending on the set up and worry about the "best" option again. Obviously leaving butts in someone's lawn (sorry Debbie) is gross, even if they tell you to do so. Bringing the butts into the house to throw in the trash smells up the whole area under the kitchen cabinet (or the whole kitchen, depending), and ditto for the garage. Carrying stinky butts inside the pack with the fresh ones isn't a great option, either, but sometimes it's the only way. Flick ashes in the same exact place on concrete and not notice until it accumulates that it looks disgusting and happens to be right near the front door. Try to remedy the situation with shoe but only make it worse and more spread out. Pray for rain. Stand somewhere else to smoke about every hour or so but always come inside smelling like ass, I mean ash, but not knowing it. After however many days of this, just when getting the hang of where to stand and what to do with the nasty butts, thank hosts and say good-bye.