Saturday is my (eek!) 33rd birthday.
I’ve been shopping all week and justifying every purchase by saying, “that’s my birthday present to myself!” So far, I’m having a GREAT birthday (even though it’s still 3 days away). I have some new wooly Crocs that I’ve been lusting after for over a year (I got pink ones!)… a new bedspread that I’m in love with… a whole slew of books on the way from Amazon… and, of course, a few new scrapping goodies from Happy N Scrappin!
But, I just decided that my REAL birthday present to myself is going to be a healthier set of lungs.
Like a moron, I started smoking a little over 4 years ago. At the time, I told myself that it would be short-lived and that I wouldn’t smoke for more than 6 months (I have no idea why I thought I’d just be able to quit at that point… like magic?!?!). But, I’ve been an icky smoker for over 4 years now… and I find that I have a horrible-sounding cough, even when I’m not sick. And, I really don’t LIKE smoking anymore. It stinks and it makes me feel like a bad mom.
So, Friday night, I’m going out with Nick to celebrate my birthday… I’m tagging along while he DJs at a local bar. And I’m going to smoke as much as I want to that night. And then I’m going to give myself the best birthday present ever… and quit throwing my money away on cigarettes that are only killing me.
Maybe thirty-three will be my “year to get healthy.” Stranger things have happened, right?? Now if I could only convince my husband to join me…