Willpower, or eating the last cupcake while no one else is looking...

In response to my husband's post here, I have the following to say:

Whether he chose to undertake quitting smoking cold turkey due to our lack of cash or some other personal goal, I haven't a clue. I have a feeling it's the former. He's secretive about these things. I don't even bother asking anymore, because he just flashes me that maddening smile of his and goes back to whatever previous activity he's partaking in.

I'm certainly not making the smokeless crusade any easier. For one, being jobless as I currently am, the lack of cash inflow is directly my fault. For the past month he's shouldered the responsibility of making ends meet. And done well enough, given the thousand pound lemons that life has handed us these past few weeks. For another, I am constantly reminding him that it was HIS choice to stop smoking, and that if it were up to me he'd have a cigarette between his lips at this very moment. If we only had the money to buy a pack of cigarettes that is. Yeah, I'm a bitch.

The combination of the stress life has dumped on us and the amazing amount of patience it takes to live with someone like me, I'm a little frightened he's going to explode any second. Not in the spousal fury kind of way, more in a disintegrating from all existence kind of way.

He's made it six days now, which is impressive sheerly due to the fact that he's rarely in the company of someone who's not smoking. If I had his willpower, I would be at least a size 4. I mean, if everyone else is eating a cupcake, it's obviously implied that I should be eating one too.

Anyways, I guess all I can do is try to make sure all the open cigarette packs aren't left lying around, hole myself up in a room with him while others are smoking and try and keep him entertained, and work at keeping Limp Bizkit off the playlist. Because no one should have to suffer though my horrible taste in music, especially if they're trying to quit smoking.