I really don’t smoke that much, usually one cigarette before bedtime. Okay, and one when I get home from work, but I pretend that doesn’t happen. It never seemed like a big deal until this past weekend, when I got a terrible cold, a curse upon my respiratory system. Coughing up phlegm into wads of toilet paper (and then into a glass jar when things deteriorated further) made me understand something. And when I figure out what that is, I’ll get back to you.