Big Quitter

At the end of the course I made up an impressive CV, gave bogus business addresses and wrote every one of my glowing reference letters. Thing was by now I had a history of not suffering employers who were fools – and I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that almost everyone who employed me was stupid by virtue of the fact that I kept getting away with ever more grandiose lies to improve my status. And then there’s the rush when resigning on impulse, what a fabulous feeling it is.

In the film ‘Office Space’ Peter and Joanne embody my distaste of idiotic management. The nihilistic frustration echoed in films like ‘Fight Club’ and ‘American Beauty’. Yep, quitting is good.

Odds are that you were (or still are on the odd occasion) a smoker. Quitting tales? We’ve got ‘em. I have no idea of the number of times I quit – I never considered it trying to quit because I would go from being a smoker to a non-smoker in a snap. Sometimes I’d be a non-smoker for months on end, other times I would last until I woke up the following morning. Well, all the times bar one.

At its peak, when I was under huge stress to meet imbecilic and unobtainable targets I was up to 60 Rothmans a day. I’d taken my cue from my trainer whose washed-out clothes seem to fit with his yellow hand and teeth.

At 28, married and with a mortgage I’d still take a razor blade to scrape the yellow skin off my fingers before meeting my parents. They didn’t know I smoked. Sure, they’d discovered a pack of 10 Embassy No.6 in my room when I was 14 but I’d convinced them it was a money-making scheme – selling singles to the kids at the youth club. It was a convincing tale because it was true in part.

The longest period I spent as a non-smoker (prior to this) was four years, but then we moved to Colombia where life was taken that little bit less seriously. Cancer? Who cares about cancer when fags were almost free and you stood a much greater chance of being shot, blown-up or kidnapped.

My viewpoint changed when we had our second kid and they were toddlers together. I realised I didn’t want them to think smoking was a norm, for as little as I cared for my life I want them to live forever, preferably happy and without a boss who is an utter tool.

This was the only time I considered it quitting because I knew in my heart that going back to fags was not an option. I stayed in the flat for a fortnight. I’d get up in the morning, go to work, come home and that was my life – no drinking either because fags and booze were made for each other. After half a month of cranky I had it nailed.

Ish.

That was 2004; eight years later I was on the tipping point of returning to smoking for a whole number of self-justifiable reasons – working for an idiot that I couldn’t walk out on being one of them. Not only had children stopped my smoking but also their constant need for clothing and feeding meant I had to try to curb my attitude in the workplace. It was like trying to force a 26650 battery into a 14500 mod – failure was all over the place waiting to be picked up, put in a bag and carried home.

So I came at all of this from a totally different direction: vaping for me isn’t an escape ladder, it’s a firebreak. Mods, attys and juice have been the thing that stopped me returning to smoking.

More than that, vaping has become a full-time hobby and my work. After a lifetime of working for morons I now work for myself. Some things in life never change 😉