I confess!

Warning: lazy blogger! Here's my homework for my Life Writing class. A very rough draft which become increasingly apparent:

I'm pretty wiped guys - deadlines and all - but still have glimmers of enthusiasm so, briefly, here's my rule-break:

The rule: "Do not smoke indoors Lucy!"

The break: I only went and smoked indoors, didn't I!?

My mum and dad found out that I smoked when I was 15 which was quite good going for me since I was throwing up regularly from nicotine rushes from about the age of 12. Either way the rule was 'smoke in the garden' or at least blow the smoke out of the back door in the kitchen whilst shivering on the door step.

My folks regularly went to stay with my mum's brother and his wife (aka my aunt and uncle) so I had the house to myself. This was when I'd sit on the sofa in front of the 'big telly' (the one in my room is a 'medium telly') and light up a Marlboro Light (are they still called that? I think it's just Marlboro now).

How did I feel? Well, firstly, warmer than I do in the garden but also independent and empowered. 'This is what it'd be like if I had my own place', I'd think. I did indeed have my own place for 1.5 yrs where I smoked EVERYWHERE - in the bath, even whilst cooking. Yep! - but being an impoverished student I came back to mummy and daddy, tale between my legs, ready to take my place in the garden. I sound like a dog don't I?

When the folks were out I was the Lady of the house and I smoked in that house! BUT, there is a price to pay for taking such liberties in a place where they were never really yours. The price here was anxiety and an obsession with the smell of smoke resulting in me spraying air freshener, walking out of the living room and then walking back in nose in the air sniffing around. Again...like a dog! What's going on here?

So, yes, it was nice being warm and comfortable, nice to puff away in front of the, quite frankly 'massive telly' but in the end, I felt very guilty and anxious and somehow increasingly like a dog.