Still not smoking. Nearly a month now. It’s weird what you miss. Not the taste, more the pause it gave you. That minute outside when everything slowed down. I haven’t replaced it with anything yet.
Tuesday was the worst. School run, twins bickering, coffee gone cold before I’d had half of it. I felt like I was watching myself drive. No music, no patience, nothing left in the tank.
After I dropped them off, I didn’t go straight home. Ended up parked by Cala Conta. Didn’t even get out. Just sat with the window open, listening to the wind coming off the sea. It was quiet in that heavy way that makes you notice your heartbeat.
Sara keeps saying I need a break. She’s right. She says it like it’s simple though. It isn’t. The second I stop, my head fills up again. Work, bills, the next thing.
So I sat there and did nothing until it stopped feeling guilty. Watched a fisherman pick through his nets on the rocks. Everything he did was slow. No rush, no phone, no clock. I liked that.
Bought bread on the way back. The woman at the shop told me I looked knackered. I told her I’d quit smoking. She said, “That’ll do it,” and gave me a free orange.
Home felt quieter that night. The twins were drawing. Sara opened a bottle of wine and said, “You look calmer.” I didn’t feel calm, just less sharp around the edges. Maybe that’s what she meant.
I’ll probably go back to the beach tomorrow. Sit in the car again. Still not smoke. See what happens.