It seemed like a good idea at the time

Picture it

Saturday night, 7 of us gathered at a girlfriend's house, it having been far too long since the girls hung out together. Since my hen's night in fact. Amazing food, lots of wine, really stupid photographs, and then, the brilliant idea hit me.

I'd have a cigarette.

Never mind that it had been four weeks almost since my last one, it was a flash of genius. One cigarette wouldn't make me a smoker again, I could pick it up then walk away again, strong like bull, all of that crap.

Nicking one from a friend, I sat for a moment before I lit up, enjoying it. I've alwyas liked smoking, that's half of my problem. I lit up. I took a drag. Then another. And one more.

Then it happened. It hit me. The undeniable fact of the matter. No matter how much wine I might have had, cigarettes are gross. Revolting even. What the hell was I doing? What had I been thinking for the past 17 years of my life as I happily puffed away?

Apparently I hadn't.

Quickly I butted it out, chagrined, embarassed almost. Maybe it was a necessary experience, to further drum it into my thick Canadian skull that smoking is bad, and gross, and not something I should be doing.