I Really Hate to Tell You This...
October 15, 1999.  Day one, dammit.Nobody knows it but me, until now, but I became a smoker again, last summer.  It happened on a trip I took alone.  I have had other trips in which I have smoked, but got the quit going successfully on my return.  I did that in early June, and again in July.  The August trip, though, resulted in a return of the addiction, full bore.  After returning, I could go for a day, maybe two, without smoking, but I could always find a reason and a way to sneak a few.  A few became a few more, and it has been building from there: during the last month or so, it's been 10-15 a day.
I haven't told my Quitnet friends.  [if you have been a frequent correspondent with me, please see apology].  See, enough of them have seen my writing that it would cause quite a disturbance over there if I fessed up.  So I'm not going to announce it there, but I'll announce it here.  Today's the day.  I had my last about two hours ago, at noon.  I know already that this is going to be a struggle, as I have tried during the last 2 months to put together a quit again, and it just has not been as easy to get it started as I had hoped.  It's going to take some work, and some dedication, and some of what I had a year and a half ago, whatever that was.  Here goes.
Friday, Day 1.  After writing the above, I lasted for 3 hours, then found myself standing in line behind the compulsive gamblers at the liquor store, to buy one more, very last, final pack of smokes.  Went out back by the lake behind the store, smoked three, and dumpstered the rest.  How pathetic, to have blown a nice 3 hour quit.  But I've done this so often during the last 2 months!  Every pack I've bought has been my very, very last.  Anyway, I did get through the evening all right.
Saturday, Day 1.  But late the next morning, I found myself off running an errand at the hardware store, and there's a Pik 'n' Pay right on the way there, and there's this nice little nature preserve on the way there, so I went and blew a perfectly good 20-hour quit.  Made it smokeless through the afternoon, but smoked four more that evening.  Sunday would be a better day to start.  I'm managing to make Day 1 last for quite a long time.
Sunday, Day 1, October 17.  I have been going to a fitness center at least 3 times a week for 4 months now, to perform amazing feats of strength and endurance.  Actually, to run 2.22 miles in 20 minutes on the treadmill and grunt and groan in a pitiful and undignified manner before some infernal weight machines at the Geezers, Gimps and Wimps House of Fitness.  Strangely, this does not seem to have helped me with my requitting effort, possibly because I am in the best shape ever for me, smoking or not.  Since I've become readdicted, these workouts have often left me with intense cravings afterward, and lately, I have started to notice a shortage in the wind department, along with a tendency to dread each workout more than the last.
I made it through the morning, because there were no opportunities to do otherwise.  By 12:30, I was off to the gym, having heard that exercise is a good way to deal with the cravings.  But, wait!  There's a Pik 'n' Pay on the way there, and maybe one more foulup won't be noticed.  Smoked two before, and two after the workout.  Ripped the filters off the rest, to guard against a possible dumpster dive, and pitched the pack in the fitness center dumpster.  Surely, this would be the last.  The rest of the day was safe, with social obligations and no opportunities through the afternoon and evening.  Spouse and darlingdaughter did drive me crazy in the evening, though, as I struggled with the deceptively tricky task of printing daughter's birthday party invitations.  You know, so that they can be folded in quarters with a picture on the outside and the info inside?  much trickier than it would appear, at least for someone entering nicotine withdrawal.
Monday, still day 1.  I have 4 hours left in day 1.  My major accomplishment today has been to drive past all the Pik 'n' Pays on the way to work.   I have not succeeded in doing that for quite a while now, so this has me feeling a bit smug.  Maybe I'm on my way, now.  I'm anticipating the next challenge, at lunch time, and I know there will be a need to reward myself after 24 hours.  The next 8 hours are critical, as they will get me into the evening.  It's safer in the evening.  And by tomorrow morning, I'll be two thirds of the way through the dreaded day 2.  I need to stay focused on the task at hand, so don't expect to do much constructive today.
Two weeks ago, I did make it through an entire weekend, a total of 2 1/2 days, so I'm nowhere near the self-congratulatory stage.  That time, though, I had my parents visiting and was much less free to cheat than I am now.  I am now in the midst of the withdrawal stage.  Light-headedness is setting in, as my hemoglobin is less encumbered by carbon monoxide, and is delivering more oxygen to the brain than I'm accustomed to.  I expect this oxymoron phase to last for days- not weeks or months, as I thought it did last time.  I've concluded that the floaties I experienced during Quit One were due to a seasonal allergy.  They recurred last spring, without the influence of a quit, starting in March and ending in early June.
I have started with the drinking of massive quantities of water, having just downed 24 ounces on my way to the coffee machine.  The Quit-lit claims that this removes nicotine and toxins from the body, thereby easing withdrawal symptoms.  But it seems unlikely to me, as hastening the removal of nicotine from the bloodstream can only increase withdrawal symptoms.  The benefits of nicotine replacement (patch, gum, etc.) are based on easing withdrawal by leaving some nicotine in the bloodstream, so flushing it out can't actually help with withdrawal.  Instead, I believe drinking lots of water is just another oral thing to do obsessively, and it helped me in the past, so I'm doing it again. I will be trying to keep my coffee drinking down today, although I won't try to do without it altogether.
I have not found the Quitnet to be of much use during this period of being unquit.  At least, it has not inspired me to start my quit again.  I may have worn out its usefulness.  Much of what I see there I have seen many times, and most of my quit-buds have either relapsed or moved on to other places.  Some have relapsed for months, then taken on quits for a second time.  They give me some hope that it can be done.   However, for the last 10 months or so, the Quitnet has been dominated by a group of people who seem to take particular pleasure in slamming each other, and factions have formed, almost resembling gang warfare at times.  There is tribalism, subterfuge, deception, and rampant abuse of punctuation and pronouns.  It's not the pleasant haven that it was in 1998, although it does seem to be improving over last summer.
I'm closing in on 22 hours, and about to head out for lunch, the second challenge of the day.  Sure would like to, but I'm not gonna do it.  There are benefits waiting for me.  I know some of them will take years to appreciate, but there are benefits to quitting, and they're significant.  I'll be back shortly, honest!
Through lunch, still at it.  I was not at all certain that I could get back from lunch with a quit still intact.  Sat in the parking lot at Wendy's, having my bacon-burger and fries, counting the smokers as they drove past.  It was only 5 out of 30, a bit fewer than I expected.  Hey, I'm getting heart points with the quit, so I'm not going to worry about the cholesterol until this quit is well in hand (and maybe not even then!).  Made it back to the office without setting foot in a place that sells tobacco products, and right now I'm approaching 23 smoke-free hours.  I expect the cravings to come by at around 3, with my biggest challenge on the way home.  But I am out to break patterns today, and the quit has my full attention, so I'm going to make it.
Right now, I'm approaching the 24 hour mark, and I'm feeling no worse than I have all day.  I might actually feel better, less light-headed, than I did in late morning.  Some sensations are showing up:  taste is already coming back, as is smell.  There was a distinct tobacco smell in the elevator-- not of smoking directly, but of someone who smelled of tobacco.  The same smell pervades a computer lab I had to visit today.  No smoking allowed, but the room stunk of tobacco, nonetheless, from all the students who were marked by the distinctive smell.  I wonder how obvious the smell has been on me, at times.
Storming into day 2.  Day two is beginning, even though it is mid-afternoon.  I am having some troubles with the child-proofing software that I'm trying to set up on the network before Brownie Troop 217 arrives.  They will descend upon me to earn their "point, click and go" computer-experience merit badge (I'm told these are called "try-its" in Brownies).  It's ok, though, as the diversion makes it more likely that I'll make it through the afternoon.
I'm starting to look forward to the passage of time.  It is time, after all, that is needed to overcome the heebie-jeebies, time needed to erode those neural pathways that practically demand a trip to the pik 'n' pay.  I'm looking forward to three hours from now, when I'll be home and relatively safe.  Safe, that is, unless spouse sends me on an errand.
I'm working on developing an aversion to the opportunities.  I fell from grace by anticipating an opportunity with relish, as I did on my summer trips.  I actually remember thinking, after14 months or more of quitting, that I was looking forward to a trip and to a few days of spirited smoking.  The whole thing was worked out for me in advance by my evil twin, and it was a package deal:  you travel alone, you smoke.  Simple.  I was, however, quite appalled at how the smoking rooms smelled in some of the motels-- so much so, that I opted for nonsmoking rooms and stepping outside.  I guess we are concentrating the smokers into a smaller number of places now, so that those places really stink.It is clear that I can't go on these trips any more without some extra precautions.  Maybe I'll never travel alone again.  At least, I don't need to do any further travelling for a good long while.  But I know that I won't really have a viable quit until I can deal with the opportunities, not just avoid them. For now, though, it seems best to avoid them.
Water by the lakeful.  An hour ago, I drank 40 ounces, then had a cup of coffee.  I'll be right back...
Time to head for home.  Nothing of great importance was done today, for sure.  Thankfully, I'm on sabbatical.  Wish me luck, passing by all those tobacco-pushers.  I know I can do this, just have to keep my motivation high and my guard up.
Made it home, and I'm now up to 30 hours smoke-free.  Did stop at the pik 'n' pay, maybe mostly to tempt fate, maybe partly to get some Doritos.   Spouse has purchased a new squeaky rubber hedgehog for Scuppers-- much louder than the old version, almost deafening. And, she confronted me with halloween décor, a property tax bill, and a visa bill, as soon as I walked in the door.  Right now, though, the prevailing idea is to get the squeaky rubber hedgehog from Scuppers before I lose my mind.  Made it through daughter's homework and piano practice without inflicting any lasting injuries.  I do find the family far more annoying at times like this.  The thought of fabricating a need to go to the store did occur to me, but only briefly.
Tuesday, 43 Hours.It's been a difficult morning.  Picture day at school, the day when Darlingdaughter's vanity and Spouse's vanity collide.  Major clothing dispute rocks the household at 7:30, with the bus bearing down upon us.  I stay out of it.  Somehow, this is resolved.  I made it past the temptations on the way to work; I didn't even come close to stopping.  So, now I'm here at the office, with only a few hours left in day 2.
I don't have the euphoria that I had when I first quit a year and a half ago, but that's probably because I'm not as light-headed, and because I know I can do this.  I didn't realize it the first time, and was thrilled to discover it.  I am not having that hard a time of it, once I actually managed to motivate myself to begin the quit again.  This is not to imply that I've managed to get away with a relapse-- it's too soon to say, and it would have been easier to keep the quit going, regardless.  The anxiety and self-loathing of relapsing, the sense of loss, skulking around like a scared rabbit, are all reasons enough to avoid a relapse.
Time to go drink vast quantities.
Mysterious problems plague the computer lab, and the brownies will descend on me in 4 1/2 hours.  Browsers of all sorts seem to be lethal on three of the 8 computers I was hoping to use.  Maybe they'd settle for a nature walk, instead??  One of the two students in there has been smoking today.
Tuesday, starting day 3.The 48-hour mark passed while I was at the gym.  I wasn't expecting this workout to be much different from the last one, which was just before I had my last two cigarettes.  But it was.  I was not gasping for air as I had been at the 10 minute midpoint of running, and not too much with the weights to follow.  I am impressed, even if it could be all psychological.  I am also pleased to say that the craving I experienced over the summer during exercise was probably related to the fact that I was planning to reward myself later.  I did have a craving after lunch which followed the workout, but not an intense one.  This quit has gained momentum, and I think the workouts will get easier, the payoffs higher, and these incentives to stay quit will keep me going.
The dreaded Brownies arrive in an hour, then it's home for the evening.  I'm not exactly sure how this will go, but even if the computers all crash repeatedly, it will only last an hour.  I'm past two-thirds of the day's trouble points, and might take Darlingdaughter home with me, to erase all doubt.
I cannot believe how good I feel, after only 2 days of quit.
Tuesday, 51 hours.  The Brownies have come and gone, all 17 of them, with several helpers and spouse, of course, who is Brownie Leader Par Excellence.  It was 75 minutes of semi-controlled chaos, and they are so adorable.  As one outgoing university president said about the faculty, "they are individually delightful, and collectively frightful."  As a group, they seem like a single, loosely-structured organism with unpredictable behavior, and enormous curiosity.  They had a little trouble figuring out which computers to use (or I had a little trouble getting the message across).  One computer froze up, and the cursor disappeared on a couple of others.  But they seemed to enjoy most of it.  I just tried to show them how to create a word processing file, a paint file, a couple of web sites, and a game.  An hour and a quarter flew by.  Now, in the aftermath, I have this desire to smoke.  I will ignore this desire, and run along home now.
Tomorrow, when I drive here nonstop in the morning, I'll be up to about 67 hours, far too many to squander on a slip.
Tonight, it's spouse's turn to duke it out with Darlingdaughter over the homework and practice issues.  I am grateful.
Wednesday, 68 hours.  Jeepers, it's all in my head.  During the last two months, I allowed rituals to creep back into my life.  One of these was to discard packs in disgust with myself, at the end of each day and often in the middle of a day.  Another was to buy a pack first thing in the morning on the way to work.  And even though I could buy one for 50 cents less in the city, I would pay the extra so I could smoke some on the way into the city.  During this period of low motivation, this seemed an insurmountable weak point.  I have found that a little momentum and positive thoughts make this completely achievable, along with reminders to myself that this can be done, and that there is far greater suffering than to go without a cigarette in the morning.  I'm finishing off the often-dreaded but over-rated Day Three in the next few hours.
This quit is definitely easier than the last one.  I'm not gloating, and I know the quit is young and there's a lifetime to go, but I want to dispel any concerns that some of my friends may have now that word is probably getting around.  I want people to know that I'm OK.  Hell week ends Sunday afternoon, but I think mine might have ended already.
Some recovery symptoms are showing up.  Most prominent of these is a prickly sensation on the tongue.  I have heard that this is the regeneration of the long-suffering taste buds.  I have yet to be thankful for my new, improved olfactory abilities, and may have to wait until spring for that.  Life insurance companies should hire the newly-quit to sniff their policy applicants.  It would be much less expensive than their lab tests for nicotine traces.  Funnier, too.
Day Four.  The best thing about Day Four is, of course, that it's no longer Day Three.  Also, this day will include the half-way mark in week one, sometime around 2 a.m.  I'm past the lunch-hour challenge time, and that does remain a challenge.  Bringing a home-made lunch would be a better approach.
The trip home and evening passed without incident, though I do feel rather chained to this computer and more obsessive about this quit than I would like.  That was the case last time, too, but I think it's the only way for me to do it.  Otherwise, my mind goes blank and the evil twin just steps in and takes over.
Thursday, approaching Day Five.  The morning commute brought some pangs of wanting, but they were managable.  I'm going for a workout before lunch, and I'll be interested to see if the progress that I thought I detected 2 days ago continues. Have you noticed?  I'm not counting hours anymore, and haven't even calculated them all morning.
The day will be full of lab work.  The song that will rattle through my head is to the tune of "Big Girls Don't Cry" (1962, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, click here for karaoke-style accompaniment):
Good fish don't smoke Good fish don't smoke
Good fish, they don't smo-wo-woke (they don't smoke) Good fish, they don't smo-oke (hey bloke, it ain't no joke)
They're no fools, neither Lites nor Kools (it ain't cool) Good fish, don't smoke in school (must be against the rules)
(Silly fish) thought he could just take one puff (jellyfish) found it wasn't nearly enough (killifish) found the quit was really rough good fish don't puff
Fish from France to Oklaho-oh-ma (and Tacoma) have no lung carcinoma (not even in Bologna)
good fish, it is ru-oo-mored (so they say) have no pul-monary tumors (seems that they're all ok)
good fish, neither cough nor hack (they don't hack) fish don't have... heart attacks (no car-dee-ac attacks)
(wonder why?) all those fish in the deep blue sea (wonder why?) never smoked like you and me (wonder why?) how'd they know that's the way to be? Good fish, they're smoke-free
Good fish, they don't smo-wo-woke (they don't smoke) Good fish, they don't smo-oke (hey bloke, it ain't no joke)
Good fish don't smoke Good fish don't smoke
The day was full of lab work.  Extremely boring lab work.  My second post-quit workout went well, about as well as the first one.  Then it was off to the in-laws' house for dinner.  Things are ok.  Mother-in-law was not as annoying as usual, so that was fortunate.  Tomorrow I do have some stressful conversations that I've been putting off with a federal funding agency.  These have always been significant triggers.  I also have to communicate with a dean who has been trying to micromanage my grant and whom I would seriously consider throttling, if it were legal to do so.  I'm hoping the funding agency will give me the ammunition to show him in a nice way that he's a cretin, but they might not.  So, tomorrow could be tricky.  However, it will become day 6 by mid-afternoon, and hopefully the stressful moments will be over by then.  Hell week is nearly done.
Friday, Day 6. Still have found many things to get in the way of calling NIH. Now, it's nearly lunch time! Those federal employees won't be available during the lunch hour, for sure, so I can stall a while longer. Having just had my own lunch, I'm finding this to be one of those moments of serious craving.
Day 6 is no better than day 5. I guess I should not have expected much improvement; the stairs start out very high, and very gradually get shorter, but they remain uphill stairs for a long time. Now the quit is starting to seem like work. I should have known that it would, but allowed myself to forget. According to Suzan's theory, I won't be back to par until I've made up my lost ground, about 2 months worth. That seems only fair, and I'll be curious to see if it's true. I have yet to call NIH. Might go the e-mail route (less stressful).
I made it home again, unscathed.  Never did send that e-mail (too stressful, and too complicated).  Monday, for sure.  The weekend looks cold and dreary, with two soccer games for the Green Team.  This is a good thing for the week's closing, from a quit point of view.  I probably won't be on my own that much, and will have other things to think about.  Still, most of the tranquility in my life comes from sources other than family.  Weekends are no easier than weekdays for a quit, and I would guess that's the case for most people.
Saturday,Day 7. Feels pretty good so far.  Darlingdaughter has a friend over.  Spouse is already decorating for next weekend's birthday/halloween party.  I'm,  uh... running errands...  I'd better check in later.
At the end of this day, I'm pleased to report that I passed up three or more significant smoking opportunities.  I had built strategies to get me through the work week, but wasn't sure how the weekend would go.  Seems fine, so far.  Darlingdaughter's soccer team lost, 1-0.  It was very, very cold.  There's one more game left in the season, so soccer-servitude is nearly at an end!  Only 14 hours left in hell week, and I plan to sleep for most of them.
Sunday, Day 8.  So much for hell week; on to heck week, now.  The one-week mark passed while I was watching the Green Team lose another tight one, 2-1.  They would have won this one, had not the clueless James and microscopic Alex been put in together on defense.  The Orange Team quickly scored two goals.  Darlingdaughter did have a thrilling end-to-end run with the ball, thwarted by the opposing goalie, but quite a sight to behold.
I think the quit is sinking in as a way to be.  Once the withdrawal symptoms subside, Quit really is a state of mind.  And I am not having withdrawal symptoms, aside from a bit of lightheadedness during the first two or three days.
Monday, Day 9.  I haven't actually entered Day 9 yet, as my quit days don't flip over until 2 p.m., but by the time you read this it will most likely be at least Day 9!  The quit is continuing to get easier.  Looking back, I felt no serious threats to the quit over the weekend, and there is a world of difference between today and a week ago.
I'm starting to wonder why I took so long to reinstate the quit.  It must have something to do with the evil twin insisting that he have some continuing say in my life.  Or, maybe this was all a final act of youthful defiance before succumbing to the Correct Lifestyle for the Middle-aged in the New Millenium.  Whatever it was, I hope it's finally out of my system, or reduced to a long-term dormant state.  Maybe, by the next time it surfaces, tobacco will either be illegal or completely unaffordable.
I took my car in for a tuneup today, one of those while-you-wait places, so I had about 45 minutes to kill.  Ten days ago, I know this would have been a smoking-op.  Today, I just went to a nearby hardware store and spent money impulsively, but I was not too bad:  I spent less than I saved last week by not smoking.  Got a small pair of field-glasses, and a little rechargeable flashlight that plugs into the car's cigarette lighter, very spiff.  We need our little rewards, right?  Besides, now I can throw away the lighter.
Tuesday, Day 10.  It's anniversary time of the month for many of my quit-friends who correspond with me frequently, and the issue that's beginning to trouble me is how to handle the congratulations that will come my way on the 30th, which marks the 19-month anniversary of my first quit.  Last month, and the month before, I just thanked them quietly and guiltily.  I guess I can do that again.  None of them seem to have seen this, but they all couldhave.  One voice tells me this is not quite right, but I still value the 30th as the monthly anniversary of the day my whole quit process began in earnest.  Although it does not mark the end of smoking in my life, it does mark the beginning of the end.  Another voice tells me these anniversaries are all beancounting nonsense after the first six or so, the quit is mine, and I'm the only official scorekeeper.
I hope I'm not jinxing myself, but aside from that nagging guilt issue, I am feeling completely recovered from my little smoking debacle.  During the last four or five days, I've been as free of cravings as I have ever been.  So, if you've relapsed from your quit recently and feel hopeless, I hope you will take this as a good sign.  If you're contemplating a relapse, thinking you can just hop back on the wagon, remember that we're all different, and I might have been the lucky one.  I might easily have not tried again until it was too late.
I'm going to try to leave this account alone for awhile, and try to obsess about other things for a while-- like my family and my job!
Friday, entering day 13:  doing well.  Went to the dentist.  It seems as if my teeth are falling apart, left and right.  I blame part of it on my smoking a pipe for 8 years, clenching it between my molars.  Anyway, I will need to see him again, and then he might recommend a crown... I always have a craving after dental appointments.  I'm not sure if it's the financial hit, or the release from pain, or the release from terror, but it is invariable, and it did happen today.  Winston's always in the parking lot waiting for me when I leave, but today he was unhappy when I told him he had to walk home.
Monday, Week 3. Heck week is past, and was much easier than the last heck week.  This is the week three that people call dangerous, because the euphoria of the quit has worn thin, revealing the drudgery of quit maintenance.  But things are different here, because the euphoria was not so great this time.  Having quit before for an extended period, I knew what was possible, and it has been a matter of trying to get back to where I belong.  I think I'm nearly there.  Did you notice?  I'm not counting days any more.
I did receive a few congratulatory notes from my quit-friends, which I accepted with gratitude and guilt.  Eventually, I hope this will be a small blip in my quit history that nobody else will care about.  Right now, though, these people care a great deal about these things, perhaps too much so.
No more updates for at least a week, I promise.
Monday, Week 4.  I had an out-of-town meeting over the weekend (Nov. 5-7).  Winston came along for the ride, so I did smoke on my way to the meeting on the night of Nov. 5, and had a few more on Nov. 6.  It is very strange.  There's some sort of entitlement I feel when I'm travelling alone.  I got no additional enjoyment from smoking; in fact, it made me feel pretty queasy and pretty nasty, but I felt virtually obgligated to have a final blowout.  What's the deal, there?  Anyway, I had no trouble getting back on the wagon Saturday night, and yesterday and today have seemed fine.
Friday, Week 8 (December 10). That's right.  In one more week it will be two months since the requit, ignoring that misadventure on Nov. 5-6.  Things quickly became routine after the slippage, so the updates have seemed unnecessary.  This quit is going to take me at least up to my next road misadventure, and maybe right past it.  Let's see, what's new?  I'm feeling pretty good.  I'm not sure why I'm here.  I'm also not sure what I'm going to do with this piece.
Wednesday, Week 9 (December 15).  Approaching two months since this quit was reinstated, I do believe I feel very much the same as I did before I relapsed.  The feeling is always somewhat vulnerable, but not usually craving too badly.  Last Saturday I went to my boss' Christmas party, unaccompanied.  Spouse was off to the Nutcracker with Darlingdaughter and two other girls.  I managed to down four gin and tonics, and I discovered evil twin Winston in the car as I left the party.  He convinced me to pull over at the Pik 'n' Pay on the way home.  After all, Spouse 'n' daughter were not due home for two more hours; there was time to recover from the queasiness and maybe even to enjoy a cigarette.  Somewhere between the car and the door of the Pik 'n' Pay, a more rational thought prevailed, and when I came back to the car, Winston had vanished.  He'll be back, I'm sure.
Monday, Week 12 (Jan. 3).  I survived the holidays, and it is good to see the quit entering its twelfth week (or nearing the end of month two, Week 9, if you're a purist).  The last week of 1999 was a challenge, with Winston frequently at my side, screaming to me at times.  There were so many smoking opportunities, lots of idle time, and each opportunity seemed like a last chance to do it before 2000.  Now, it is too late.  This whole century must remain unblemished.   One of my quit-buds discovered this account about a week ago, and was quite upset with me for not being more forthcoming about my troubles.  Her feelings were hurt that I didn't come to her right away.  I should have been open about this, when the troubles were present.  Now, it seems like a healing wound that should be left alone.
Things I have done differently this time around.  Some time ago, I thought I might like to write something with the title "Things I'll do differently on my next quit." I wish it could have had that title, but this retake is allowing me to test these ideas, and I am gaining a bit of first-hand authority.  I'll build on this list, as things proceed, if I can think of anything new.
1.  Just drink lots of water, don't bother eating small states.  Lots of water does curb the appetite.  During the early weeks, aside from that unfortunate Doritos episode on day 2, I didn't eat much outside of meals.  Gained ten pounds during the last quit, and while I could afford to have those extra 10, I didn't want to make it twenty.  So, although Skittles are mighty tasty, I found I can do without them.
2.  Establish an exercise program before your quit begins.  I did not do this the first time.  This time, I did have an exercise routine under way during my relapse period.  The benefit of this is purely psychological, of course.  Most smokers have an aversion to exercise, because (whether they admit it or not) they can't do much of it due to limited lung capacity, poor circulation, etc. etc.  So, it's not surprising that many who quit have no recent experience with exercise.  As a result, they have no idea what their capabilities are.  Then, when and if they finally do start to exercise, they discover they're out of shape, and overweight, and this becomes a source of discouragement.  In fact, they might be doing far better than they realize, compared to when they were smoking.  I suggest that some effort at exercise before quitting (however discomforting this may be) will provide the benefit of a benchmark for comparisons after quitting begins.  Do something measurable, like distance walked/run in 10 minutes.  Gains against that benchmark are likely to be far more palatable than comparisons with what you used to be able to do back before your smoking career began, say, back in high school.  And, the adversity of exercising while smoking might provide another kick in the pants that some people need to get going.  I know, I used to hate jocks and exercise freaks, and I'm really a reluctant convert.  But it does help, I must admit.
3.  I didn't post all the details of my quit on a bulletin board, just here.  Actually, I recommend the bulletin board option for those who are on their first quit.  But, I just couldn't seem to get into that approach this time.  Having heard all the advice (and given much of it, myself), and gotten all the encouragement that one could expect from a crowd of strangers, I didn't feel I really had much more to gain from that approach.  You can only go to that well a certain number of times.  So, I suggest that you make the most of your first quit, avoid having to do it over, and that won't have to be an issue for you.  Just don't smoke.  Yes, I know... it is a difficult thing to do.  Some people claim it is the most difficult thing they have ever done, but it really does not compare to many of the truly difficult things people do.
Apology:  To those of you I've hidden this from, who might feel I should have told you first, I'm sorry.  I've even accepted congratulations from you that were not deserved-- when the quit turned 18 months old, it was in the mud.  It's not that I didn't think you could have helped me out of this, but I just couldn't do it that way.  I had to get it done on my own this time, for a variety of reasons.  I didn't want to shake up anyone else's quit, and I have some great friends out there who are a little shaky still.  Also, I didn't want anyone feeling unnecessary guilt over this-- it's my fault, and has nothing to do with anything anyone else has done or said. And, of course, I am more than a little embarrassed by it all!  So, take a guess-- what's the predominant reason?  Hint:  embarrassment, and fear of it, motivate most of what I do.