Today I woke up at my parents' house. As depressing as that is it does get worse. My mother smokes. Not only does she smoke she smokes in the house. I’m completely convinced that I will die from second hand smoke from her and then I'll be resentful. I do understand that I breathe in second hand smoke at bars and my drinking consumption will probably deteriorate my liver first, but if I do get lung cancer it will be on the head of mother. I don’t care if that sounds awful. Since I was a child I brought home little smoking is bad for you pamphlets. She used to hide her habit but now she just doesn’t care. Also I can’t keep my wedding dress there because who wants to walk down the aisle smelling like second hand smoke and have yellowing on their dress? Grrr.
So after I get over the fact that I smell like smoke. I walk into the dinning room to get breakfast. (One upside is the parents now buy groceries and that’s pretty awesome.) But before I hit the kitchen I almost step in dog poop. I did leave it there for the next person to find because well they’re not my dogs.
Also, my parents’ house is falling down. I do not understand the theory of paying off the house but not keeping it up. So what if it gets paid off if the ground beneath it is shifting and they’re holes all around the house. Grrr.
I keep telling myself that I can’t change them or try to fix it. I’m only there because I have to pay for part of this wedding by myself. I will have money saved and will get to have my own house that I can keep however I want. I need a poster of that saying…