Aujourdhui est le sixieme jour since I turned my back on chocolate. I'm good. Plain sailing so far. I've not been pestered by cravings, dogged by mood swings, or pounded by withdrawal headaches. Not a thing, not even a substitute addiction. Sixty days, eh.

About ten years ago, I went to a Nicotine Anonymous meeting; a little out of curiousity, with a touch of voyeurism too, but mostly as the non-smoking support for a friend intent on nailing his smoking habit once and for all. I loved the whole thing: the camaderie, the support, the sense of a shared struggle.

What got me the most was the applause; every time someone rose out of their chair to tell everyone else how long they had been clean, there'd be cheers, bursts of handclapping, exhortations. It was almost religious. Some sobbed, a few sniffled, not everyone had the indulgence of a single addiction either. This was in California, and the meeting was an edgy, arty, driven, desperate crew to boot; there was a rainbow, an A-Z of addictions. Should have shoe horned chocolate in there.