Lisa* is a good friend of mine. She quit smoking Friday afternoon at around 3 p.m. I know this, because she called me around 4:00 this morning to tell me the exact number of hours and minutes since she made that decision. She awoke from a dead sleep, sweating and craving the insidious coffin nails that have ensnared so many of us over the years. While my first instinct was to reproach Lisa for calling at that indecent hour, empathy stopped me in my tracks. I was in her shoes about ten years ago, and I remember it like it was yesterday.
Read the full story at my blog in Gwinnett Daily Post...
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