It's been a year and eight months since I quit smoking. I still miss the smoking pit camaraderie, even though I don't miss the cough, the upper respiratory infections, the high blood pressure, the stench of the smoke permeating my life, and the expense of the cigarettes themselves. I smell divine, but just because I quit doesn't mean I don't remember. I still consider myself a smoker -- just a non-practicing one. So I can't cast aspersions on smokers who stand around the grocery store door and furtively suck down one more drag before entering the clean air zone. There, but for the grace of Chantix, go I.
I couldn't agree with you more. It's true "there's no zealot like a convert," and I've seen many an ex-smoker turn into a now-jerk.
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