Taking it day by day — sometimes, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I remember back when, one of my abortive attempts to quit smoking (I finally did quit a year and a half ago): never have I been quite so starkly aware of TIME. For someone who basically had to have a fix every hour, when the clock ticks by those magic minute markers, all you want to do is get your mind off the one thing you can’t stop thinking about — a furious futility. Needless to say, quitting cold turkey didn’t work out. I think I lasted two days, if that. Yes, I realize that the phrase “take it day by day” means that you worry about what is before you, and think not of how long it’s going to be before you finally don’t have that urge anymore. But it does take that long, and there’s no fast forward past the bad stuff. Makes you wish you could hibernate, and let time do the healing without the slow, gnawing exorcism of addiction, or anything else that can only be achieved by waiting. Like maybe a broken heart, or anything of suffering that makes you live forever in a day.