Why I Love My Roomy; orYou Can’t Have Your Tree and Smell It Too

Here be ventings; beware.
I think it must have been a week now when we got our tree. Most of my life I have had fake trees –or actually one fake tree–and only toward later high school years did we get real trees. They are fun, they smell nice, and most people know the clean up is ridiculous afterward. Apparently Heather has never had a real tree. I don’t remember about Georgy, but Heather wanted a real tree.
Ok, so not a problem. We went out and got a tree, it was fun, smelled nice, we decorated it … good times were had by all. This year went about the same. We got the tree for a pretty decent price as I remember, snuck it inside, decorated it and were all happy.
So guess who is allergic to the tree?
Heather is apparently allergic to Christmas trees, or the scent of pine, or something. So we put out the tree and were a little sad for our loss, but Heather over the tree is really no competition. And here’s where the total love and admiration for my dear darling roomy comes in. Because she still really wanted the tree, she looked up ways to get rid of the smell. I think initially we were going to try and wait until it died, but somehow we bought a mutant tree–I kid you not, it will not die.
Solution. . . spray the tree with bleach. I mean I guess since we were trying to kill the tree anyway … So today she brought the newly spraied tree back inside and just to be on the safe side, moved the noisy air purifier next to the tree.
Guess who’s room the loud annoying white noisy air purifier ends up being next to. Yeah … this kid who hates the thing. Not only is it all the things I just said, but it blows cold air. Brrrr! So now I can’t here myself think, and no one can hear me from the living room. Initially I was not going to post this and be nice, but she is being kind of stupid about it.
First of all, we aren’t even allowed to have live trees in the apartment; secondly she is frickin allergic to it and it’s just a tree! It’s not like this is something she can’t get rid of. But no, “The air purifyer needs to be on or else I can’t breathe, and I’m just not going to touch it and I should be fine.”
Does this seriously make sense to anyone else? And I think the best part is that she will complain about her allergies. GET ! RID ! OF ! THE ! FRICKING ! TREE !!!
Is this a hard concept?
And really, I only take issue because of the air, and because I have to hear her complain about the tree making her sick and try being her, yet she won’t just give it up.
Sigh. I was a psych major in college. My official unofficial diagnosis: some people just aren’t meant to be understood.

Making For Happier Holding

Were you ever the kid who got to hold the phone while somebody put your parents on hold?
I was that kid. I think that’s part of why I freak out when people shove phones at me now. Like:

AAAHH AAAHH WHAT WHAT? I DON’T KNOW WHAT WHAT DO YOU WANT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY WHAT WHAT SHOULD I SAY WHAT IF THEY ANSWER WHAT WHAT I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOW NO I DON’T WANT TO!