The next month was probably the most difficult of my life.

While I have no first-hand experience with tobacco (or the quitting thereof) I do have an anecdote to relate that is relevant.

A friend of mine used to live in Florida, the cocaine capital of the country. He described himself as being a heavy cocaine user, much more so than the people he hung with.

One morning he woke up in a motel room, more dead than alive, no idea how he'd gotten there or what he had been doing the last couple of days. He said to himself "This stuff's gonna kill me. I gotta quit." And he did. Never touched it again.

Fast forward a couple years. He's now in Alaska, has just met the woman of his dreams, asks her to go out with him, she says, "I'd like to... but I just couldn't date a man who smokes." "No problem," he says. "I just quit." He wadded up his cigarettes, tossed them in the trash, and never smoked again.

But... (and here's the kicker): He told me that "...quitting the cocaine was a piece of cake compared to quitting tobacco."

Bad, bad stuff that tobacco.

ps: He ended up marrying the woman...

tanstaafl.