Jim was a two pack a day guy. Unlike the other boys who coughed, wheezed and puked as they sucked down their first smoke, Jim felt just fine. He loved the buzz. The ritual of it. The sense of community and equality. Didn’t matter if you’re the CEO or the guy humping your butt in Shipping and Receiving, if you were on the street at 10:45 you were welcomed. Embraced. Your jokes killed. But then his wife conspired with his Doctor, his mother, and his grown kids, insisting during their yearly vacation on the Jersey shore, that he put an end to it. He shrugged. Thought of the old chestnut “Quitting? Easy I’ve done it a million times” and threw out his fresh pack. At work he feels adrift, lost. From 10:30 to 10:50 Jim is in hell. He can’t help but wonder why getting healthy feels so bad.