Yes, it happened.
I bought a pack of cigarettes.
I grabbed my book, headed out to the porch, and prepared to enjoy my tumble from grace.
Um, not so much.
Horrible, terrible, tasted like dirt.
I persevered, knowing I like smoking.
Apparently, not anymore.
Halfway through the cigarette, I crushed it out and headed back inside, yelling at Corey (who was mowing the lawn) to find one of his buddies at work to buy this pack of cancer sticks.
Silver lining? The constant, nagging craving that I've had for a cigarette since I quit has been sqaushed. It's gone. At least for now. And you can't get any more silver than that. It's a gold lining, I'd say.
(side note: I know that if I just kept smoking, I would come to enjoy it again. That's what happens when you first start. It tastes awful. But why in the world would I keep going to get to that point when what I want is to not be doing it at all?)