It's been 12 hours and 45 minutes and counting since I smoked my last cigarettes. A pack of Orbit gum, a pound of twizzlers, and two tootsie pops later, I'm on the verge of a breakdown.

My mind is working in funny ways, and I've all but convinced myself, more than once, that I really don't want/need to quit smoking and I should just toddle up to the gas station and buy another pack.

Then about an hour ago I was almost in tears because I realized how much I was going to MISS cigarettes.

Now I'm sort of feeling crappy.

On the bright side, my carbon monoxide level is now normal. Whoo hoo!

And yeah, I should've brought a toothbrush to work today. I'm afraid my teeth are going to rot from the candy. And I plan on riding my bike about 50 miles today to make up for this reckless chomping. I figure, after my 50 mile ride perhaps I'll walk the dogs, shower, then pass out, too exhausted to think about smoking.

This sucks.

It's a good thing that I threw out all ash trays and lighters. I even poured water over all of the cigarette butts in the garbage before throwing more garbage on top of them, just so I wouldn't be tempted to dig through the garbage, try to light each butt on the stove and then really hit bottom.

And I'm worried that my short temper, poor mood, and borderline hysteria will cause all friends and family to steer clear. I bet next week I'll have a journal entry titled, "Girl Quits Smoking, Loses Friends."

*Sigh*