Years ago, nearly 30 or so, on the eve of a new year, my friend Dawn and I resolved to quit smoking. I had been a very heavy smoker at the time; I was smoking three packs a day. But those were different days. We smoked EVERYWHERE, so probably 1/2 of the cigarettes I smoked actually burned out in a ashtray on my desk at work.
I had been thinking about quitting for a long time. I was living in a second floor apartment in Rockaway, with Jack. I remember being winded at the top of the stairs, everytime. And I was in my 20's and basically fit. And Jack and I had decided that we were going to move on; find our own places, so money was on my mind as well.
I didn't know it at the time, but I used some tried and true methods to assist me with quitting. I picked a date to quit; I thought about it every day; I told friends that I was going to quit. I told my employer I was going to quit. And I made a bet with Cindy Kirkland...she said I couldn't do it.
I tell you this, because I've been mulling something for quite some time, and I've made those first steps towards it. Yesterday I emailed the faculty advisor to the Graduate Program I've decided to pursue at Monmouth. I've told friends; I've told colleagues; and now I've told you. I'm on my way, and I won't turn back.
I don't imagine that it will be easy; I don't imagine that it will always be fun. But it's another of those things that I've always wanted to do. And now I'm on my way.
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