Go Ahead, Call Me A Quitter.

I just figured out that I have smoked three thousand eight hundred and one packs of cigarettes so far in my life. I smoke roughly a pack and a half a day (which is about 30 cigarettes), and from there I realized within the first year I smoked nearly five hundred forty seven and one half cigarettes. I was impressed with calculations, so much so that I continued on with my math.
From there I found that with that on average I’m bound to spend at least one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five dollars each year, more than half of that spent purely on state tobacco tax. I’m twenty-one years old and I’ve been smoking since I was sixteen. In the last six years I’ve spent roughly, but no less than, nineteen grand on cigarettes alone. I have not taken into consideration the many packs purchased in airports or high priced train terminals, which I’m sure would consitute at least another two thousand dollars just based off of supply and demand as well as greed.

At this very moment I have not smoked a cigarette in just short of a week. Though I have “quit” before, I admit this is the first time I’ve ever been honest to myself about it. Prior attempts proved fruitless as I’d begin hording packs in my car and buying loosies from my neighborhood Turkish gas attendants.
Nearly everyone I had anything to do with in high school smoked cigarettes.

My teachers, my family, my friends, my friends parents & all of their friends all smoked and it just seemed right. I knew they were horrible for me, the same way my teachers and my parents knew but I couldn’t have cared less. There was no peer pressure & I didn’t think it would make me look cool I smoked because I enjoyed it. But somewhere along the path of enjoyment I crossed into the rocky terrain of nessicity and I’m happy to say that with all my heart that the next nineteen grand will amount to something other than future lung problems.