I’m off to visit the girlfriend tomorrow. I have done the responsible thing by packing tonight and cleaning the place a bit. I still haven’t asked my neighbor Heidi if she can check on the cat a few times over the weekend. I even plugged in my air freshener thing that alternates two scents into the air every hour or so.
By the way, I was thinking about all these plug-in air fresheners, scented candles, and decorative potpourri that you litter about the house. They only have one true purpose:
To cover the shitty smells that permeate your living area.
We pretend that the wafting of pine scented reed diffusers are the perfect olfactory accessory. But the reason it’s on the granite above the sink is that you don’t want Belinda to notice the low-level continuous stench of salmon that comes from your garbage disposal.
(Yes, in that example ‘Belinda’ was in reference to Belinda Carlisle. Your friend roomed with her back in boarding school.)
(One more thing – not enough women are named Belinda. It’s a solid name.)
Now, for me, my biggest fear is the cat’s litter box. It constantly smells like death in my condo. I probably only clean it a few times a week. Before you jump down my throat, she has two boxes. Plus, she never complains or anything. If she was really bothered by it, she’d bark or something.
Here’s how I know it smells like death. The same way I know I’m an angry guy.
When my ex-wife (then girlfriend at the time) were in therapy, she told the shrink that I was angry. I, ironically, got angry and protested. I told him I was laid back and easy going. I honestly believed that. The therapist than asked if any other girlfriends had ever said I was angry. I said, “Yeah – the last three.†He suggested we assume I was wrong and the three of them are right. I had to agree with this logic. It was solid.
Every time my parents come in (they’re pretty much my only visitors) they remark that you can smell the cat box. That is not a compliment, by the way. I’m going to go out on a wild limb and assume they’re not bullshitting, There would be nothing in it for them to lie. Mind you, I always clean it before they arrive.
So, it’s just in the walls at this point. My couch has absorbed the equivalent of five thousand cigarettes, or, in my case – cat peeps.
Tonight I fired up that plug-in and am going to let it rip for three days straight. When my neighbor comes over she will be so impressed. â€Why does it smell like a lilac bush in here?†she’ll wonder. (our little secret, readers! Hee!)
Oh, and that’s another thing. I hide it the evidence. I want you to think that’s my natural scent. So, if you come over and wonder why the faint smell of blueberries circles your nose every few minutes, yet there are no blueberries in sight, it’s because…
Well, it must be because that’s my natural stink.
photo credit: robinbyles via photo pin cc