Where there's stank, there's a smoke?
I am a smoker – but I haven't had a cigarette in more than four years.
I smoked off and on from the time I was a teenager to my late 20s, quitting often and never succeeding. And then, one day, I realized there was something seriously wrong with my breathing and I was an out-of-shape tub-a-lub.
Four years later, and with asthma as my souvenir from those 12 years of smoking, I'm still always a little worried something will reignite my need to smoke.
I don't think non-smokers have any idea what it's like to be a non-smoker around cigarette smoke. Sometimes it smells so awful I could gag. Othertimes, I think it smells absolutely de-lish-ous. Nothing has ever matched the succulent pairing of a glass of wine and a cigarette - except maybe, maybe bread drenched in the pooling butter in escargot.
We were out and about today and when we got back in the car to come home, I smelled cigarettes.
"What's that smell?" I said to my husband.
I started sniffing my coat, my pants, the car chair, his jacket.
"What are you doing?" he snarked.
"I smell cigarettes," I told him.
He looked at me like I was crazy and then told me I was crazy.
"Your being neurotic, you know," he said.
Somewhere in my car was a cigarette. I didn't care that he didn't believe me. He's never been a smoker so he has no idea of the pull of a butt's smell. (Yes, some butts smell good. Who knew?)
After a 10-minute drive home, we pulled into our driveway. I went to get my toddler son out of the back seat of the car and I just knew where the cigarette was. I could sense it. I ripped my son's winter boot off his foot and turned it upside down. And there, wedged in between the thick treads, was a cigarette butt.
I love it when I'm right.
There might be more(or not)
I smoked off and on from the time I was a teenager to my late 20s, quitting often and never succeeding. And then, one day, I realized there was something seriously wrong with my breathing and I was an out-of-shape tub-a-lub.
Four years later, and with asthma as my souvenir from those 12 years of smoking, I'm still always a little worried something will reignite my need to smoke.
I don't think non-smokers have any idea what it's like to be a non-smoker around cigarette smoke. Sometimes it smells so awful I could gag. Othertimes, I think it smells absolutely de-lish-ous. Nothing has ever matched the succulent pairing of a glass of wine and a cigarette - except maybe, maybe bread drenched in the pooling butter in escargot.
We were out and about today and when we got back in the car to come home, I smelled cigarettes.
"What's that smell?" I said to my husband.
I started sniffing my coat, my pants, the car chair, his jacket.
"What are you doing?" he snarked.
"I smell cigarettes," I told him.
He looked at me like I was crazy and then told me I was crazy.
"Your being neurotic, you know," he said.
Somewhere in my car was a cigarette. I didn't care that he didn't believe me. He's never been a smoker so he has no idea of the pull of a butt's smell. (Yes, some butts smell good. Who knew?)
After a 10-minute drive home, we pulled into our driveway. I went to get my toddler son out of the back seat of the car and I just knew where the cigarette was. I could sense it. I ripped my son's winter boot off his foot and turned it upside down. And there, wedged in between the thick treads, was a cigarette butt.
I love it when I'm right.
Labels: asthma, smoking, super nose
There might be more(or not)
