Many years ago, I was a smoker and, like many, had many failed attempts at giving it up. Then, because of being incapacitated with a leg injury, my smoking got heavy, not quite to chain-smoking proportions but I was well on my way and then, completely out of the and totally unexpected, I suddenly realised that I hadn't smoked for a couple days. I actually got sick of smoking. The doc reckoned that I had unintentionally put my self through something called " aversion-therapy ". I'd over-loaded and simply didn't want any more. Ever...
Who knows what that might have done to my health? And the cost of those things nowadays.
And so to what has prompted me to post this:
Every weekend for I don't say how long now, my weekend routine has been thus:
Get home from work on Saturday morning, go shopping, get home at around lunch-time, kick off those damned boots, switch on and log in, finally pour myself a long one and at that point I can't put into words the feelings of relief and absolute pleasure of having " got there ". Job done. Joy of joys.
There have been weekends when, on a Sunday afternoon, the Cider tasted sweet flowed accordingly and I've thought that I could easily have accommodated another can or three but thought no. I didn't want my drinking to get out of hand. I drunk my quota, an amount that I thought wasn't/isn't unreasonable and that was that.
Well this weekend, having bought in my usually supply of juice, I haven't touched a drop and feeling quite pleased with myself that I don't care, it doesn't matter.
It's still early doors here on a Sunday afternoon and who knows? I might just fancy busting a can before the day is out and if I do, fancy one, I shall have one but right now, I'm not bothered by it.