I live on the top floor of a three storey house and get on fine with all my neighbours. The couple beneath me are polite, public-schooly and good-looking: personable poshos! They used to smoke outside on the front steps, telling me they were trying to give up. But now my heart sinks when I smell the ghost of stale cigarette smoke wafting up from their flat below. I think they have given up giving up. What a drag...(ha). I can hardly ask them to stop smoking in their own home.
Also, when I got central heating installed, they kindly agreed that a gas pipe could be routed through their hallway and into my cupboard. I have tried to stuff an old cloth in the tiny space where the pipe comes through, but with increasing regularity, I open the clothes cupboard to the smell of stale tobacco.
Will they ever read this? Probably not. Maybe I'd be embarrassed if they did. They are amicable and friendly enough. I hope the wife gets pregnant soon. That would do it. If the baby cried in the middle of the night I could put in ear plugs. I just can't put in nose plugs.
-C
1 comment:
Smoking is an unhappy pastime. And of course reduces fertility, which can't help. Might you, there can be nothing more fag-inducing to the recently-given-up than a crying baby.
There are no easy answers.
It was good to find your blog recently. My husband has had ME for over three years. We keep hoping it's on its last legs, but usually that's him.
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