Smoke, again.
Mar. 5th, 2009 02:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
weirdletI'm sitting here at near 3AM, trying to get in my quiet non-interrupted time with a brand new mystery book, and I'm realizing- once again- that it may have gotten subtle or I may have gotten used to it, but I'm smelling cigarette smoke from downstairs again.
And I'm thinking about the irritated throat I wake up with and the little near-cold symptoms I've been having for weeks- like, say, my sinuses and such are getting irritated more easily, hmm...- and the goddamn rigors of avoidance-training that they put us through all through school and I begin to get just a little more *irritated* with the fact that my dad's friend is down in the basement, smoking merrily away (I don't care that he's got a decades-old addiction and is a complete genius ditz! I don't care! I want my lungs back! And my basement!).
It's one of those things where it's small enough that I hate to make a huge, house-moving fuss about it (although I still will) and he and Dad have such a history together and even dad agrees that he's hard to take but in small doses and he's just so goddamn *pathetic*- but call it my dream that he'll suddenly make some good money, move out, and I'll get both my basement and my clean airways back in one fell swoop.
Rrr.
Upside- am slowly wearing down the little existential crisis that's been dodging my head 24/7 about knowing death is inevitable and that all good sense tells me there's nothing after and it both scares and angers me. Downside- I've been slacking on the limiting-Pepsi and exercising and it's showing- and I want to be able to cosplay something elaborate and good-looking in a year or so. Need to tighten that up. My first year I determined that by god, I wasn't going to just go with the short-fat-40-year-old characters because that's what my body looked like- but I still like being able to have the versimilitude to fool myself into thinking that I'm pulling something off well. The Alucard thing I'm giving up because- foot-killing heels and hot suit aside- I really can't get the hair right, and my face looks too damn puffy when I do anyway.
It's 3AM, and these things may be disparate in context with each other, but each are whole and separate, sensible thoughts to me. I do tend to go mile-a-minute on these things.
And I'm thinking about the irritated throat I wake up with and the little near-cold symptoms I've been having for weeks- like, say, my sinuses and such are getting irritated more easily, hmm...- and the goddamn rigors of avoidance-training that they put us through all through school and I begin to get just a little more *irritated* with the fact that my dad's friend is down in the basement, smoking merrily away (I don't care that he's got a decades-old addiction and is a complete genius ditz! I don't care! I want my lungs back! And my basement!).
It's one of those things where it's small enough that I hate to make a huge, house-moving fuss about it (although I still will) and he and Dad have such a history together and even dad agrees that he's hard to take but in small doses and he's just so goddamn *pathetic*- but call it my dream that he'll suddenly make some good money, move out, and I'll get both my basement and my clean airways back in one fell swoop.
Rrr.
Upside- am slowly wearing down the little existential crisis that's been dodging my head 24/7 about knowing death is inevitable and that all good sense tells me there's nothing after and it both scares and angers me. Downside- I've been slacking on the limiting-Pepsi and exercising and it's showing- and I want to be able to cosplay something elaborate and good-looking in a year or so. Need to tighten that up. My first year I determined that by god, I wasn't going to just go with the short-fat-40-year-old characters because that's what my body looked like- but I still like being able to have the versimilitude to fool myself into thinking that I'm pulling something off well. The Alucard thing I'm giving up because- foot-killing heels and hot suit aside- I really can't get the hair right, and my face looks too damn puffy when I do anyway.
It's 3AM, and these things may be disparate in context with each other, but each are whole and separate, sensible thoughts to me. I do tend to go mile-a-minute on these things.
