After 35 years, Kelly has decided to quit smoking.
Yay!!! I applaud him for tackling a habit that is ever so difficult to overcome.
I still smoke ... and have for 16 years. Quit twice even.
And while I support every aspect of his decision, I am angry.
For many, many reasons.
Reasons which may be considered to be quite selfish ... and in a way, they are.
For starters, this is much like what happened a year ago, when he decided to turn vegetarian. And because I would rather go along with the majority, because we have a relationship in which I no longer have to do 100% of the cooking, within 30 days, I too was vegetarian.
Yep. No more meat. Fish maybe twice or three times a month ... but otherwise, no meat.
But this endeavor is a little different ... okay, a lot different.
For starters, he's been about as useful around the house as tits on a nun today.
Sorry if that offends you.
I've been yelled at because the kids irritated him. He took them to the park today, so I could nap ... for that, I am appreciative.
The dishes were done and the kitchen cleaned. Twice. By me.
I awoke from a nap ... to be yelled at for the left over mess from the dying we did today ... that he did today. That prompted kitchen clean-up #2, at which point I discovered that he'd left
the gas stove on - he thought he'd turned it off and instead, had turned it to low so that there was only gas coming out and no flame ... and argued with me about it.
The gardens hadn't been watered. That took almost 2 hours.
The kids were starving. No grocery shopping done.
For the first time in over a year, I had to figure out how to create a meal from what I was able to locate in the cupboards. A meal that the kids would actually eat.
I have a deadline in 21 days ... and another that is past due by 3 months ...
and not once today have I been able to sit down in the studio to get things done that need to be done.
Until now ... 10:30pm. And the chicken coop still needs to be locked up for the night.
He has the support and cheerleading team of close to 900 non-smoking friends.
I have the "suck it up honey ... you should be proud of what he's doing."
Fuck that.
I have the memories of an old relationship wherein I had to always make sure that my hands were washed, teeth brushed, and clothes changed because the guy didn't like the smell of smoke. I have the residual lectures of the hazards of smoking and how this guy's parents used to smoke in the car while they were traveling, with the windows rolled up tight, two children coughing in the back seat. I have the echoing voice of someone telling they'd marry me in a second ... if only I'd quit smoking.
Figured I'd cross that bridge when I decided it was time to do so ... not before.
I would quit for me ... not anyone else.
And I am afraid that that decision will be taken away from me ... that a point in time will arrive when I will have to choose between a habit that I may not be ready to relinquish ... and the man that I love.
And for those of you who are shaking your heads, saying to yourself "well, the choice should be obvious" ... let me simply tell you that much like the parenting advice given by people who have never had children, you have no idea what the fuck you're talking about ... and please take your preaching of close-minded opinions back to the rock from under which you've crawled. I'm not interested in what you have to say.
Day 1 is almost over ... will see what Day 2 has to offer.
I'm optimistic ... and terrified all at the same time.
