A True Test

I'm sitting here in an internet cafe at The Crossways...a rather depressing little "mall" about a ten minute walk from my house.

The reason I'm here is because I can't access the internet from home...and after three hours on the phone with three different people from Bell, I am no further ahead than the first moment I had a problem.

I've sworn. Loudly. Even though Hubby said he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

I've thrown a few things, and slammed a few other things around.

I've yelled.

I've gulped down a couple of glasses of wine.

I've pulled out a chunk of hair.

I've cried.

But there's one thing I haven't done.

I have NOT lit up a smoke. Because:

A. I don't have any.

B. I wisely threw out even the butts that had been accumulating on the back porch BWQS (Before We Quit Smoking). I know myself well. I am not afraid to admit that I've gone in the garbage looking for a half opened box of cookies I threw out so I wouldn't eat them. I'm not proud to admit it...just not afraid).  

C. If there's one thing I know better than anyone...it's there's no such thing as "just one".

It was absolutely necessary to come to this internet cafe so I could print documents and emails that I need for a client meeting tomorrow morning.

I was soooooooooo tempted. Even before I left the house, as I buttoned up my coat and wrapped my scarf around me I was thinking, "Hubby would never know...I could just go buy a small pack, smoke one or two, throw the rest out and go home...and he'd never be the wiser".

But I would know. That I'd resurrected the Little Monster...that Little Monster with the name of Nicotine Jones.

I know it only takes one cigarette.

And if I do say so myself, today warranted having one.

Nothing...and I mean nothing...stresses me out more than having a big effing problem with my computer. Computer problems not only render me powerless, but also put me at the mercy of some stranger on the other end of the phone who I know cares as much about me as I care about them. Which is not at all.

So when the third person I spoke to at Bell told me the soonest they could get someone to my house to replace my defective modem is this Tuesday between 8 and noon, I knew no purpose would be served by having a cow, crying more, making threats to switch providers (cripes, I just switched to Bell not even 5 months ago...and it's not even because I was unhappy with Rogers) or pulling out any more of my hair.

I was done. And I knew it.

But one thing's not done.

My resolve to never let a cigarette touch my lips again.

It's not willpower.

It's not nerves of steel.

It's love.

Of my Hubby, who has stopped and must stay stopped for health reasons.

And that's the most powerful motivation I've ever had.

Comments

[Thinkinaboutcha]

This was so six weeks ago.
SO proud of you! :))