I made the mistake of publicly complaining about how hard it is to write a new quit diary every day, so my colleague Francis Cook - equal parts nice guy and professional pain in the butt - offered to write a guest entry. I gladly/reluctantly accepted.
Over to Francis:
I'm hijacking Matthew's column today because he needs a break. Did you see how stoned he was yesterday?
I quit smoking earlier this year but was triggered to start again this month due to Matthew's attempt to quit. His proud manner, his interjections of "can you please not talk about smoking around me?" his exclamations of "I don't even watch TV," were driving me back to my old smelly friend.
It was a Saturday night when I lapsed. The classic drinking thing. I bought my favourite pack of tailor-mades and forced myself to enjoy them.
They sat beside my bed for two days until I finally gave in and decided to smoke the rest. It was a panacea to Matthew's obnoxious comments such as, "If I was in prison, I'd spend all my time reading Camus". I brazenly left the pack out on my desk as an affront, a silent protest.
At one point, I got up to have a cigarette and Matthew called out: "It's not too late to join Stoptober."
And then I felt bad.
The truth is, I wasn't really enjoy the cigarettes - but I knew I would begin to. So I stopped. Again.
I've joined Stoptober late in the game, but it's never too late to stop.
To send mean and discouraging tweets to guest diarist Francis Cook, follow @FranPaulKennedy
