IT'S going to be a long, hard - and probably sleepless - night. The stormy weather has just about fizzled out, so if I don't get much shut-eye it will definitely be down to stopping smoking.
Reflecting on my first day as a non-smoker, I feel it has been as hard as I anticipated. Not pleasant and, in parts, quite hellish.
The worst moment, one I had not predicted, was when I came through my front door at the end of the day, put my handbag down and thought 'What next?'
I felt a sense of panic, a feeling of deep loss. Normally, I would light a cigarette immediately. I paced about for five or so minutes, before remembering I had shopping to unpack and a steamer to switch on.
When I'd finished my evening meal, completed my chores and sat down, I was grief-stricken. I felt bored.
My inner voice was almost audible as it screamed (in a strong Westcountry accent) 'What to do? What to do?'
Well, what WAS there to do? Cry?
In the end I went in the bath, washed my hair, sorted through some washing, played with the cat, listened to some music - and all in the hour before Holby City started!
I never knew time could go so slow.
I've just realised, my inhalator probably ran out of nicotine at around mid-day and I am allowed to replace the cartridge. Silly me!
Tonight was poorly planned on my part. I should have ensured I had something constructive lined up to keep myself occupied - and my mind off cigarettes. Initially, I thought it was the annual meeting of Honiton and District Chamber of Commerce and Industry, which I will be covering. It's next week!
At least I'm wallpaper stripping tomorrow night. On Friday night, my daughter and I are going to a bingo in Charmouth.
I'm still smoke-free. That's the main thing.