There was this home party I went to on Sat evening. To begin with, I hadn't had a drink of alcohol in weeks as I had been on medication. Boy oh boy, by the time I arrived at the party the majority of the other guests were boozed already. (Before I arrived the host had held a diner which I didn't want to attend.)

Before I left my parents' home, my dad had told me to be careful not to smoke again. He knows from his own experience that cigarettes and alcohol often go hand in hand: After he had quit smoking years ago, he was regularly tempted to light up when drinking wine or a beer.

I expected the evening to be a challenge for me; looking at other smokers, looking at how pleasurably they would take one drag after the other, looking at how coolly they would exhale clouds of smoke. But it was not.

I felt at ease with smokers around me. I didn't envy them. I did not at all. I didn't know why.

I was truly happy not to smoke anymore. I didn't have to spend the entire evening on the porch, freezing my butt off. My breath didn't smell. I didn't endanger my health. In addition to numerous other reasons.

But most astonishing of all, I didn't find any reason why I should smoke, why I should envy other smokers, and why I should feel restricted for not allowing myself a smoke. In contrast, I allow myself not to be hooked anymore. I've killed the nicotine monster in me.

After only 11 days, is it appropriate to feel like a non-smoker? Probably not. It's "one day at a time," as the slogan of A.A. goes. In terms of my non-smoking-project it means that I may have overcome my physical addiction to nicotine, and that I don't usually feel an urge to smoke anymore. However, I will always have to be careful not to engraft another nicotine monster in me, as Allen Carr names the addiction.

I'm certain I'll watch out for it. Before it's too late again. Simply because the price is too big.