Travelling tittle-tattle, tall tales and shameless name-dropping by Jon ‘Don’t Call Me’ Norman

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London, United Kingdom

Tuesday 12 January 2016

All change

A pretty woman sat next to me on the train to work. In her twenties she was blonde, slim and wore nice clothes. The moment she sat down next to me a waft of stale cigarette smoke hit my nostrils. Not for the first time in the last three years I thought to myself "I am so pleased I've stopped smoking".

I've given up many things in my life. Some toxic, some political.  Cigarettes, a friendship here or there, Gregg's sausage rolls. Starbucks, The Sun and caring about office politics.  All required mental effort but the hard work wasn't always about going without.  It was about the disruption it caused to my routine.

I remember reading that the physical addiction to nicotine is less than what your body craves from a cup of tea.  It's more the association you have with smoking that makes it so difficult to give up.  I'd agree.

Smoking went hand in hand with so many great moments in life.  The first cup of tea of a morning, an accompaniment to food, an excuse to go out and gossip, and of course the reason most find it almost impossible to give up.  A pint and a fag.  Thank god for the smoking ban.

As the years go on and the poisonous aspects of life are wheedled out what is left to give up?  Ridding yourself of addiction almost becomes an addiction in itself.

When I told my brother I had stopped drinking coffee his response was "Are you giving up coffee just to give up something?"  He had a point.

There are health benefits to coffee and it's not like when I see someone over the age of 45 puffing away. When that happens I find it difficult to not to go up to them and shake them.

The smell of coffee is also a pleasant one.  If the woman on the train had smelt like a coffee bean I'd have had a far different reaction.

I don't think I'm going to improve as a person nor live longer my reason for giving up coffee is financial rather than anything else.

As much as I'd noticed the paradox of drinking a stimulant when in a stressful situation it was more to do with the money I was spending.  £150 a month to be precise.  That's a ridiculous amount to spend on something I only started drinking a couple of years back.  It's not like I ever drink the stuff at home.

And two weeks into my abstention what do I feel?  Well, not a lot.  Giving up coffee is much easier than stubbing out cigarettes.

The only real benefit became noticeable towards the end of my first week.  I realised that the loose change in my trouser pocket was exactly the same as it had been at the start.  I hadn't spent a penny all week!

It reminded me of the difference in cost between my Ashes trip in 2006/07 and 2010/11.  The central character in the first tour was a heavy smoking, big drinking single man sampling his first overseas cricket tour.  Four years later he had matured into an occasional smoker and a selective drinker.  An engaged man enjoying his swansong tour with an assortment of friends and family.  This far more rounded but equally less interesting protagonist saved about $3,000.

Fast forward to today and I admit I've stared wistfully at someone holding a polystyrene cup a couple of times while strolling around Crystal Palace.  A coffee used to accompany me on my shopping trips.  While it's undeniable a London Bridge latte while walking along the Thames on the way to work is a pleasant way to start the day.

But my overriding emotion about coffee?  It's a faint feeling of nausea at the thought of consuming all that milk.

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