I’m on a rampage to eradicate you from my living space.
so my boyfriend thinks that he can smoke in my garage all he wants because he doesn’t want to risk his health by smoking outside where it is cold. Doesn’t want to risk his health? Um. Hello. Its a cigarette for gods’ sake. One can’t smoke it and say he’s worried about risking his health. Every toke of the cancer-stick is an increase to that risk.
Its not his health I am concerned about. It is my own. I’m the one whose body seizes up his lungs everytime even the faintest cloud of cigarette smoke enters his nostrils.
Moving my dog and cat food into my coat closet, which is full of stuff already, is unacceptable. Also unacceptable is the quite unrealistic offer to play gopher and get everything out of the garage for me. Like anyone is going to be standing there 24 hours a day, seven days a week, just waiting on me to requisition something from the garage. None of that resolves the actual issue. I am effectively barred from my garage by it. I pay rent too. Hell, I hold the god damn lease. That means I have as much right–more right–to access the garage as anyone.
It is afterall, MY HOUSE. There is a reason that the lease is in my name. It is because at 27 years of age, I have decided that homelife will be how I want it. Those who choose to live with me make the choice to live by my rules.
I guess my failing here is not having this all done via paperwork. There should be a sublease agreement and as part of that sublease agreement should be a set of House Rules that must be agreed to.
But I don’t really care. I will not suffer second-hand smoke. Period. My body can not handle it anymore. My mother has destroyed my lungs with her clouds of smoke. I had no choice in my youth. At 27 years of age, I can and will choose MY HEALTH over anyone elses. Seriously. I take a gamble everytime I walk into a Casino or bar. Will the smoke be too much? Will I make it outside before I collapse, deprived of oxygen. Gee. Maybe if he put two and two together. I don’t go to bars and such because I can’t handle the smoke for more than a few minutes at a time. Why, then, would I want it at my home?
And what is it with cigarrettes anyway? I can handle ordinary smoke well-enough. Incense, campfire, etc. It is the chemicals in the cigarettes (straight-tobacco like self-rolled cigarettes i can more or less handle as well). Those are what choke me up.
And every day that the boyfriend smokes in my garage, or other walled area of my house, will be another day like today where love and affection fails to come forth and instead more resentment builds inside.
When will it break free? When will the world come crashing down on us again? I can only sit and wait and laugh.