Quit, Quitter, Quitting

I'm quitting tomorrow! My smoking days and nights end tonight at 11:59 PM CST. Today, I've smoked the equivalent of a day of a coal miner's dig. If I was the canary in the cage at the bottom of the mines that are my lungs today, I would be dead.  I know this is what I must do. But I am sad. And I can't seem to come to grips with this sadness. More than almost anything, I want to quit this habit. Am I sad because I'm quitting my deadly friend? Am I sad because I must change my habits? Or is it because of the date I have chosen? Perhaps it's all of these, but it may be more. I will dig in, hunker down and meet this face on, as I do with almost everything in my life. Wish the canary well, please.