Cleaning Is My Enemy

There's something about cleaning my house that brings on stronger than usual tuggings to smoke, which may be why I've let the chores slack lately. My house is now clean and I dare you to find a dust bunny anywhere, but man those tuggings. I'd have to sit down and regroup and remember that it's been 41 days now since I quit and that I didn't really want one. What I wanted was a break - an excuse to procrastinate. But I got through it and am still proud of myself for being strong.

Did you know that when one quits smoking, their dog becomes depressed? Poor Daisy lays around looking at us with sad, mopey eyes and wonders what the heck is wrong with us. She misses her frequent field trips out to the side of the garage where we would be stay at home busy bodies and take inventory on what was going on in the neighborhood. Now I never think to go outside and Daisy doesn't tell us when she has to go - she just holds it. Plus I don't get my daily dose of neighborhood gossip anymore. I have no desire to go outside where it's usually cold and windy this time of year and I no longer need to go out and pretend smoke my short stubby straw or hollowed out cigarette that Bret stuffed with pieces of paper towel that first week of my quit. (I do still have little straws in every sweatshirt, jacket and jeans pocket I own though.) So, poor Daisy gets let out in the morning when the kids go to school and then by 2 or 3pm I realize she hasn't been out in forever and end up feeling like the world's worst dog owner. Thank goodness Bret remembers to feed her in the morning or she'd probably starve to death.

Anyway, my house is clean and the dog got to go outside tonight (after Bret reminded me 3 times) so I'm heading off to bed - before midnight for a change.