The struggle with the nicotine addiction has now started in earnest. Yesterday I was very active - cleaned my bedroom and swept all of the downstairs. Went out to the Mairie's ceremonie des voeux (the lady mayor of St Gilles Vieux Marche, invites the whole commune to hear the achievements of last year and the plans for next and to enjoy pre-lunch snacks and a drink of Kir). After four years I am feeling at home and not now so much of an etranger. It seems that there are 40 British (or rather non French) homes in this commune - I do wonder how many are permanent and how many holiday homes.
In spite of the busy day yesterday, or perhaps because of it, my brain is working overtime on finding ways of giving up and being a smoker at the same time. The temptation to buy just one packet overwhelms every other thought in my head.
Idea one. I go up to my local English bar and buy a packet of cigarettes and smoke one (or at the very most two) write my name on the packet and ask him to hold them for me behind the bar. This sounds like an excellent idea - but the problem would be that I would still be a smoker. So here is a promise to myself: if I am still wanting to smoke desperately after 10 more days - that is the 25th January- then I will carry out this cunning plan.
So it is now one week since I have purchased any cigarettes or rolling tobacco. But I have smoked any old bits of tobacco, dog ends and even the remains of dogends previously smoked.
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