I think it was David Sedaris who wrote about how it’s only non-smokers that call cigarettes or tobacco cancer sticks or that filthy weed and how it really was a divisive kind of thing. Of course he noticed it while he was quitting smoking, or gearing up to do so. It’s still true, though. Look around at the smokers you know: do any of these proclaim smokes as nails in the coffin?
As I tweeted, I’m aware of how backward quitting smoking might be, in order to move to a country stereotyped as full of smokers, wine-drinkers and cheese-and-baguette-eaters. Especially since I don’t drink alcohol (especially wine) or eat cheese (migraines, plus maximum farting output equals avoidance), either. But I figure, as long as I figure out how to make gluten-free baguettes, I can still partake in some of the everyday-France kind of stuff.
Or I can just start smoking again once I get there.
You see, for once, I’m not going to try to quit for health reasons, or because it’s a bad example for my kid to witness, or because smokers are being pushed out of the very realm of society, nowadays. I’m quitting plainly to save the bucks I would be spending every other day on a pack of those filthy (tasty) emphysema-begeters.
And this isn’t my first time, and it won’t be free to quit, if last time’s any indication. Last time, I quit for two point five weeks, using the patch and rewarding myself at the two-week mark with a nose ring. This means that it cost me approximately $80 to quit smoking; if I hadn’t tried to quit, I would have spent about $65. Then I promptly started smoking again.
Cue head::desk.
This time, I won’t be quite so luxurious in my rewards, but I do still plan to use the patch for the intended eight weeks. Instead, I will stock up on those hideously expensive home-wax jobs known as nicotine replacement therapy and I will reward myself with girliness – as in a Lush bubble bar at the end of every successful week.
Estimated annual savings: $700