I’ve never mentioned this before on my blog, but I have a small confession to make.

I’m a smoker.

I was the odd teenager who waited until they were eighteen to start, and didn’t start because I wanted to look cool, or because my friend’s were smoking, or anything. I just woke up one morning and decided I wanted to be a smoker. So I bought a pack of Ultra Lights, smoked those for two weeks, then moved to Lights…another two weeks there, then on to full flavoreds. (That’s a misleading phrase, by the way.)

I smoked a couple of cigarettes a day, until I moved into my own place at twenty-one. Within a week, out of sheer boredom, I was up to a pack a day.

I’m now thirty-one. You do the math.

And now, with all the stress from my grandpa dying and having to moving and just…life throwing a bunch of stuff at once, I’m up to two packs a day.

I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. I have enough concerns about cancer, having lost both my father and maternal grandfather to colon cancer, and the fact that my mother and most of my maternal female relatives have had cervical cancer.

I think it’s time to do something about it.

I’ll be speaking to my doctor about my options, but I also thing I’m going to buy electronic cigarettes. I know that I won’t be able to quit without help, but it’s time.