Monday, September 30, 2013

non smoking zone

i mean, gross.
My neighbors smoke.

Usually, I can't tell. I don't notice. Can't smell it. And yet, at this moment, that strange sweet smoky smell is creeping through the miniscule cracks of my doorway and assaulting my nostrils. I HATE the smell of cigarette smoke. I also don't quite enjoy the smell of coffee like some people might hope that I do. However, the smells of pumpkin, cookies, freshly mowed grass, and the winds of a changing season may stick around.

I wonder what it would be like if I was the type of person who could go outside and say, "hello? your unhealthy habit is stinking up my home." or "excuse me? could you please go smoke your death sticks on another planet?"

I don't know. I'm not that type of person.

I am the type of person who will continue typing on her computer while breathing a little less deeply until it is gone. And then I'll tell Alex all about it later. "Alex!" I'll say, "The most terrible thing happened. The neighbors were smoking and I could SMELL it. I could smell it Alex!" He would be on my side, I know it. He would say, "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I would have asked them to stop!"

And I would say, "I know. That's why I didn't tell you."

I'm not that type of person.

p.s. Alex got an internship! hooray!

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