When my editor first approached me about writing a story to celebrate my one-year quitting-smoking anniversary, I experienced momentary visions of grandeur: I, JoAnne Steglitz, having gone 365 days without even a drag of a cigarette, have the power to author an inspirational anti-smoking think-piece. And then I started contemplating what I actually might write. “A bucket of carrots, combined with a prescription strength patch, and maybe a little Zyban thrown into the mix, and you too can be nicotine free,” simply didn’t sound all that inspirational.
The fact is, quitting smoking is nasty business. And, while it has been more than 365 days since I smoked my last cigarette, and the nicotine is out of my system, and the compulsive behavior has been successfully supplanted with other obsessive habits (running, knitting, gnawing on nails), and I’ve finally grown accustomed to crossword puzzles accompanied only by coffee, I would still give anything to live in a world where smoking didn’t stain my teeth, contaminate my clothes and ultimately cause cancer.
Nevertheless, something needed to be done to commemorate the event. So, rather than write a protracted and Pollyannaish essay about how, “If I can do it, you can do it,” I have decided to pen this pithy yet anything-but-pensive piece, and have my mother treat me to sushi instead.
– JoAnne Steglitz