And then it hit me - hard - as I sat down with the morning paper and my cup of coffee. I was overwhelmed by the urge to smoke. I craved the thrill of that first inhaled lung-full. I wanted it now. And not just one cigarette. I wanted all the cigarettes.
The fact I had made a commitment not to smoke - not one - made it even harder. I didn't want to let myself down. I didn't want to let others down. But my body was in revolt. I needed a cigarette. And the half-empty packet was sitting right there.
That's when I thought about licking the ashtray. It's not the same as smoking, right?
Somehow, I snapped out of it. I decided a nicotine patch was probably a better idea.
I couldn't get the packet open fast enough.
As the nicotine slowly seeped from the patch into my bloodstream, I had to admit my plan had utterly failed.
The night before, I had bought a bottle of wine and a packet of cigarettes. The idea was to smoke as much as I could in a last-gasp last hurrah. Smoke until you feel sick, I told myself. But it's a method recommended by no one, ever, and for good reason. I woke up feeling like utter sh**, and I still wanted a cigarette.
Despite my terrible plan, I kept my resolve the following day. I didn't lick the ashtray. I didn't light up. I gave the rest of my cigarettes to a colleague. Yes, I wanted to smoke all day - especially when a colleague jokingly taunted me at the news conference, using the stub of a pencil as a cigarette prop. But I didn't give in. One whole day.
I'm starting to feel good about this journey. I just wish it wasn't so bloody hard.
To take part in Stoptober, visit www.stoptober.nz
For help quitting, visit Quitline at www.quit.org.nz or phone 0800 778 778
