Man! I really do miss the post-work cigarette. I don't think it's the delicious menthol I miss. Although, that is a big part of it. It's more about trying to find new things to do my hands. They're used to reaching into my purse and pulling my smokes out. There are no more smokes in purse. I'm sure I'll pick up some other horrible habit.

Tonight, I went to 7-Eleven. I go to this particular store quite a bit, if my transaction history on my debit card is to be believed. The overnight guy totally knows me. So, I went in tonight for milk & cereal; had a craving. Anyway, the overnight guy was ringing up my comestibles. He reached behind him and said, "no cigarettes tonight?", brushing his hand against the spot where my lovely, minty, sticks o' death are kept, behind the sign.

"No cigarettes. Thank you, but I quit a couple of days ago."

Then, he told me that he was proud of me. He doesn't smoke. He works out every day. He's a trainer at a local gym. He also told me that he used to be a boxer back in Ethiopia. He said it was the first time he'd ever worked in a "store like this" as he gestured around the store with an outstretched hand. He said, "I go to school every day in daytime. I working out before school. Then I work here."

I meant to ask him when the hell he managed to sleep. I didn't. I just stood there chatting with him for a few moments. I've always liked the overnight guy. But now, I'm a little in awe of the dude, honestly.