12 July 2005


It's gonna be hard to believe, but I won. I have battled the mighty insurance monsters and escaped with a narrow victory. I am Brad Pitt in The Mexican. I have brutalized the brutes! Bruce from SelectQuote called last night and it's official: I AM A NON-SMOKER! I can't believe it either. Now I have to give up my pack-a-day habit? Seriously? I had gracefully accepted the smoker lifestyle. I'd started hanging out on the apartment porch and smoking while I tipped back Diet Pepsi's and talked endlessly on the phone. (I learned it all from the more-than-slightly overweight woman with an upstairs apartment near our parking space). I'd even entertained the idea of storing a month's worth of trash out on the balcony to keep me company. Sadly, I had drawn the line at letting our li'l one maintain a diaper-only wardrobe. I guess my commitment wasn't as deep as I'd liked it to be.

At any rate, I'm still in shock over the victory. This never happens. I am ERIN BROCKOVICH! (SOMEONE CORRECT MY SPELLING!) I CAN'T STOP USING CAPS LOCK! WHY AM I SHOUTING?

So now I begin the steady process of quitting. And have you seen the price of those NicoDerm patches? Seriously. At least I've got the low life insurance premiums to ease me through the withdrawals.

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