only backgroundI'm a wife, mother and grandmother. I'm opinionated. I contradict myself frequently. Most of all, I love my kids. I believe in them. I fight for them. They're weird and wonderful. If you want to know more, here's a bunch of other stuff from my old site.
It’s In The Air
- by Marisa
- May 7, 2007
In a way, I don’t want to admit this. It sounds too much like complaining, perhaps because that’s what it is. Normally, I don’t mind complaining since I’m actually very good at it. But this is something I promised myself I wouldn’t do and yet, here I am.
Since Brian has been home from Hawaii, I’ve absolutely hated the cigarette smoke odor in our bedroom.
There, I said it. I smoked for 33 years and swore I’d never complain about someone else smoking because I knew how it always angered me when others did it to me. I always figured it was my house so I could smoke if I wanted. So what if I smelled like cigarettes where ever I went.
But now it’s really making me crazy. Every time I go near my office, which is right across from my bedroom, I can smell the smoke. I don’t even want to go in the bedroom now. It’s that annoying.
And since I’m on a roll with the complaints, I’ll also add that yesterday someone knocked over Brian’s ashtray that sits on the end table near the recliner in our bedroom. Brian just sat there looking at it, expecting me to clean it up! I was furious!
And yes, I did clean it up. Because it was bothering me and not him.
I don’t mind visitors smoking in the kitchen or living room as long as Levi is not in the house. But I really don’t want that smell in my bedroom near my clothes. And I don’t want to clean up the mess.
Gee, I feel better already. Maybe I should complain more often.
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I totally can relate!! I quite smoking 3 1/2 years ago, and now when I smell smoke it literally makes me sick. I get nauseous and everything! I truly feel for ya!
I’ve never been a smoker, but this is how I feel when I smell smoke. It’s like you’re seeing the world through a non-smoker’s eyes for the first time and it’s hard to believe everyone else can’t see and smell what you do
The knocked over ashtry, though, would have made me flip my lid. Even if it hadn’t been ashes, the fact that anyone else would expect you to clean up their mess gets my blood boiling, because it reminds me of my ex.
I don’t like how it sticks to your clothes, and how you can smell it later. When i see my sister, who I adore, my clothes smell smokey later.