Worst Fears Realized.

All right, not worst fears, but predictable negative side effects confirmed.  In the week since I quit smoking, I've gained 1.5 pounds.  So 1.5 pounds in and of itself is not alarming, but 1.5 pounds a week, if it continues week after week could become more alarming.  I guess it's time to baby step on from citrus to the gym. Blech.  The gym sounds bad enough on its own, but going to the gym without the satisfaction of that first post work out cigarette, sounds like even more torture. 

Aside from the minor weight gain, and having to go back to the gym, and still being a little jittery, and being more sensitive to the heat (a side effect I believe from not spending an hour or two outside smoking a day) I am starting (kind of) to enjoy being a non-smoker.  I had a great long weekend water skiing, visiting friends at their Donnelly ranch (complete with home-made bread and home-made strawberry/raspberry ice cream-Thanks again), and then home again to my kind and patient husband.  I'm trying to stay positive about this quitting stuff, but my mood has been unpredictable and at some times rather sour, and he has been very good to me about all of this.  I still haven't quite figured out how to mellow my brain out without the nicotine breaks, and Bryan has been very good to me while I continue to make sour faces, and silently sulk until I figure out a better, less deadly way to mellow myself out.

As a general rule, I have always been a bit of a stress case.  I rather enjoy that about me.  Cigarettes were my break to go outside and calm the hell down.  Guess what, the evil tobacco companies knew I would do that, as the following vintage cigarette ads prove.

Steady nerves for war time.  I'd probably still be smoking if we were in the middle of World War II.

Yes, I used to smoke anxiety away.  Spud cigarettes?  Wonder why that brand didn't last...

Who new contract bridge was such a stressful game?  I had to add this vintage ad just so I could tell this story.  About two years after I finished my undergraduate degree my grandmother invited me to join her bridge group, and when I explained to her that I did not know how to play bridge, she accused me of not actually having gone to college. Apparently she was under the impression that all nice young women go to college to learn how to play bridge and find husbands.  True story.

It does take steady nerves to be America's Greatest Stunt Girl.  I don't think the life expectancy of a wing walker made her overly concerned about the negative health effects of smoking.

Wishing you all an excellent week, and for myself, some calmer nerves and no more weight gain.