Every year doctors would ask me during our company’s physical exam sked whether I smoked. I’d say yes and the doctor would then ask how many sticks I smoked everyday and then I’d say 20 sticks or one pack. Last week, the doctor actually told me “gusto kang malata imong lungs?” (do you want your lungs to rot? or something.) I was so shocked by the mental image that I just had to take a puff in the canteen. Every year I’d say I’ll quit smoking when I reach 30. That self-imposed target and convenient excuse is just months away. Darn, I really need to quit smoking. First target: limit cigarette breaks from the newsroom by sucking lollipops or chewing bubble gum.