You Can Shove Your Rights Where the Sun Don’t Shine

When I breathe in cigarette smoke, my lungs go into spasms commonly known as ‘asthma’. This causes me to have trouble breathing for a couple of hours afterwards, which – thanks to the fact that only one of my lungs can actually provide oxygen to the rest of my body, stuffs things up even more than usual and makes me damn tired. Of course, I can take medication for the asthma, but that causes my heart to go a little nuts and – guess what? – that makes me even more tired.

Strangely enough, given this small health issue, hearing smokers bleating about their ‘right to smoke’ makes me want to scream abuse at them. No matter how much I try, I fail to see how a drug addiction makes a person’s rights more important than anyone else’s right to not be injured.

Wondering what brought on this rant? My local ‘mall’ (that’s a wide, paved pedestrian strip open to the sky with shops on either side, for my international friends) is being considered for a smoking ban. Well, halle-bloody-lujah, cos I hate having to hold my breath while walking to the supermarket just so that other people can have their right to smoke. Except people are fighting it, because it’s SO UNFAIR. You can probably guess what I think about that, right?

Get the hell over it already! Your right to smoke does not outweigh my right to breathe.

Ya know, I’m thinking about fighting for my right to have sex in the mall. After all, it’s far less dangerous to other people, promotes healthy exercise, and supports the government’s call to increase our population. Seems fair, doesn’t it?

Dreams of an Alternate Me

I was just talking with my husband about my dreams, and I thought it’d make an interesting blog subject.

You see, I often dream – in rather boring, everyday-life type dreams – that I smoke (I don’t, never have, highly doubt I ever will). Not much, maybe 2 or 3 cigarettes a week. Sometimes it’s just a fact that’s in the background of the dream. Sometimes I’m smoking, or thinking that I might want to cut down a little. It’s never really surreal or exciting, just… a part of life.

The other night was the same, yet provided a weird twist – in the dream, I dreamt that I was a non-smoker. And I ‘woke’ from the dream-within-a-dream and contemplated how strange it would be to have never smoked a cigarette. And then I woke from the dream, and thought: “Wow, trippy!”

I can’t help wondering if maybe there’s more to theories of alternate universes, alternate realities, than I’ve ever given them credit for. They’ve always been interesting ideas to consider, but nothing more. But these dreams are so darn mundane that I feel as though I’m catching a glimpse of an actual life. Weird, huh? But if I dream about things which will happen in the future, and things that could happen in the future if I follow a certain course… why not about a life that might’ve happened, but didn’t?