Today marks my 21st day without a cigarette. That’s some 525 cigarettes I haven’t smoked in the last three weeks, and — if the online gizmo I’ve found is correct — that’s nearly four days added back to my lifeline, provided I don’t step in front of a bus or fall off a mountaintop out of turn. Given that I’ve been a smoker for 26 years, this is a milestone that I find remarkable… just as I find it remarkable how much I still crave a habit I’d grown to despise.

Still… three weeks.

My sense of smell — already pretty sharp from all the exercise I give it — is noticeably more so. I haven’t seen huge improvements in tasting yet, save for some more discernment of “sweet” flavors. We’ll see if that changes over time.

Meanwhile, I’ll aim for another three weeks. One day at a time.

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