It’s been a month now since I’ve begun my journey into smobriety, and so it’s time for a slow-motion, sappy-music-tinged recap.
Well, no, not really. The thing that’s consistently surprised me in this month of smoking cessation is how little of an issue the actual cigarette-smoking has been. Cigarettes have not consumed my every waking thought. Pangs have been virtually nonexistent, even in situations where smoking was abundant and accessible. Neither of my two non-smoking cohorts, both of whom have logged smoking careers longer than even my twelve-year habit, have come close to falling off the wagon, either.
Which is not to say that it’s been easy.
Full roundup after the jump.

The first cold that one gets as a non-smoker, apparently, is a nigh-deadly experience. Without the reliably toxic fumes entering the lungs and killing even the most ferocious little viruses, a new smober person's immune system isn't what it should be. Plus, the battle-scarred lungs and throat of a new non-smoker provide a warm, cozy petri dish for any bacterium that wishes to nuzzle in for weeks at a time. I'm honestly not much of a complainer when it comes to illness, but this cold had me sleeping entire days away just so that I would stop experiencing the horrid, flulike symptoms.
There are also other issues that I've noticed in my newfound smobriety: my nail-biting, which, for some time now has been under control, has gotten so bad that I'm afraid that one day, I'm going to look down and find my fingers chewed away to the knuckles.
Also, I've begun biting my lips. In fact, I noticed today that my lips are, right now, 25% scab.
And I'm still dreading my first visit to the dentist in six years, which will probably entail much weeping on the parts of both patient and dental hygienist. Loyal Slog readers will get the full update when it happens. Don't say I never gave you nothin'.
In fact, in this first month, I have to say that there are no health benefits at all to quitting smoking. I understand that the longterm benefits are great, and I know that they will become apparent within three months of quitting, but right now, besides the fact that the scales at the local thrift store say that I'm 165 pounds, which is 15 pounds less than when I started this smoking cessation thing, I'm probably in worse physical shape than I was a month and a half ago.
But I don't want a cigarette, and I didn't through any of this, and that's what's important.
I'm going to continue Slogging for The Stranger for as long as they'll have me, and I will continue to post any interesting or salient non-smoking information that I may come across, but this first month is over and now I'm going to leave town with my girlfriend for two or three days and enjoy the hell out of myself, thanks in part to the hundred and fifty dollars that I've saved by not smoking, which is as close to a high-fiving victory dance as you'll ever get out of me.