So long, Marlboro ma'am

When I packed my carry-on for this trip, I made a decision: I would not pack my cigarettes. If I wanted them when I got to California, I would buy a pack there. I didn't consider it a conscious decision to quit, but I knew that buying that pack would be difficult. For two weeks, my parents would be with me, sharing evening use of a rental car that would not be available to my mother and I during the day. Wherever the car went at night, we all went, so a week flew by before I had the opportunity to drive alone and, if I chose, to stop for cigarettes. I didn't. At the end of two weeks, my parents returned to Tennessee without me, leaving me sole use of the car and ample opportunity to make that stop. I still haven't. I've been smoke-free for one month today.