The fog has lifted enough that I can hold a conversation without forgetting what I was trying to say. Lots of water helps with the headaches - thanks for that tip. No cravings all day, in fact - my mind was busy with other things.
Yeah. I felt pretty good. Then the thought flashed on the way home tonight, when I passed the mini-mart, that a fresh can of Cope and a hard cider would be a perfect way to celebrate how relatively terrific I felt.
Weak.
But that nicotine monster is going to get stronger, and smarter. I know that. It didn't get to me this time, but it's a mistake to underestimate it. I have plenty of experience watching like a spectator through binoculars while the monster leads me around effortlessly, degrading me to prove its mastery over me. Brothers, I've watched myself dig through garbage cans looking for tins and pouches that I've thrown away in half-hearted efforts to quit. You couldn't be more disgusted than I am by that image. Anything that can do that to me deserves my absolute hatred. Hell, I've looked through trash to find dried up chew-plugs - the monster told me I had to, and I've been doing what it says for a long time.
But not today. I escaped with my dignity again. I kept my word again. I made it through the day again. I can't wait until tomorrow.
Ninereasons. Hour 1, minute 1 of Day 7.