Did Denis Leary Quit Eventually?

Day 3 of not smoking. How am I doing? Thanks for asking! I nearly broke down last night, due to Monk being out of the house for practice. Practice nights are slices of Alone Time Heaven. Normally I’d sit outside the house with a book, a smoke and a glass of wine for hours*, blissfully free of (his) interruptions (yelling at the dogs, wanting sex right when my book gets really good). Fearing the powerful triggers of psychological addiction, a trip to Walmart provided me with banana cream pie, candy bars, ice cream and a frozen block of macaroni and cheese. I sat stuffing my face with carbs and sugar, and watched Super Nanny and Wife Swap all night. Wife Swap got a little Jerry Springer at the part where the two wives meet and critique each other’s lifestyle and parenting techniques. Apparently it took the crew three hours to calm the ladies (and I do use that term generously) down and film the end of the show. I was sitting there, watching the hair tossing, neck swaying, finger pointing and attempted over-the-table-jumping and thinking “huh, this show has somehow managed to become even trashier than it was last season.” Because, let’s face it, when Wife Swap premiered last year, everyone knew it was the ugly, drop-out cousin to Trading Spouses, showing up drunk at the family picnic and demanding some attention. Then I looked down at my t-shirt, which had become the canvas for a piece with the working title “Annihilation of Banana Cream and Chemically-Enhanced Cheesy Pasta,” and decided the kettle needed to shut her pie hole.

*I keep reading that phrase over and over, my willpower threatening to collapse, a slow-motion set-to-music montage of all my great smoking moments starts up, and
Denis Leary is prancing through my head: "I love to smoke I love to smoke I love. to. SMOKE!" Must be strong.

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