VICE

Chocolate, men, coffee–some things are better rich. —Anon.

I stopped smoking because I became terrifed that I was developing emphysema. Cancer and death never frightened me, but the idea of that hideous debilitation, that was something else. The difficulty was not with nicotine addiction. No, it was all those little moments of life when habit would find me digging in my purse or shirt pocket for that cigarette. Finish a meal, walk out of a door, pause in writing something–pause in anything.
Went cold turkey. One thing that helped: Because I had to have something to do with my hands, I cut plastic straws into cigarette lengths, and when I wanted a smoke I pulled one out and chewed on it. Inelegant. Effective, if only because I knew what an idiot I looked like.