In a Haze

Our apartment still is abundant with the wholesome fragrance of cigarette smoke. We don't smoke. I really like how my life is turning out these days. I really like all the decisions I made in the last few months. I really like myself right now. I really just want to give up. Again. Because that's the only thing I am good at. They say your sense of smell holds powerful memories. Mine just sends me spiraling until it chokes my sense of self-worth.

Update:

Laughing instead of crying at the world is done when you report the smell of neighbors smoke in your apartment and the reply email asks: "Is the type of smoke cigarette or marijuana?" Whoa. Slow down there buckaroo! This question implies that you think most people know the smell of something that is supposedly illegal. Not even mildly illegal but like schedule 1 lock-me-up-in-jail illegal. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I find this presumptious juxtaposition between reality and legality pretty gosh darn hilarious. But no, it is definitely cigarette. Also, you're "quick question" is implying that I might smoke the other if your documentation is that precise. So yeah, I wanted to remind you that I brought up the issue Einstein. You'd think I'd be more discerning if I smoked anything NOT to say anything about smells at all. Cue copious eye rolls. And yet I'm just here giggling in the dark thinking about burning a shit ton of incense to see what happens....

probably nothing. Story of my life. But I'm laughing. I swear. It might be bitter and sarcastic as hell, but the noise leaving my mouth is happy.