For MONNNNNTHHHHSSS:
me:
*sniff* What’s that smell … *sniff sniff* Ugh what’s that smell … *sniff sniff* I ONLY smell it in this EXACT spot in my house … *sniff* And only sometimes… *sniff sniff*
It was a musty smell. Very faint.
*treats potted plant, cleans the dishwasher, p‑traps, garbage disposal, and window frame, inspects outside of house, inside of house, floors, air vent, has Aaron look under house, considers indoor environmental assessment, considers burning house down, considers walking into the sea …*
me this afternoon:
*standing there still smelling this phantom smell* Ugh, what is it?!
*looks at dining-room table*
Maybe … ? But why would the table smell?
*sniff*
. . .
GUYS IT’S YOUR OLD PAL EMILY BAD NEWS I’M A FUCKING MORON SOMETHING WAS FUNKY ON THE SURFACE OF OUR TABLE WE DON’T EAT AT IT VERY OFTEN AND IT JUST NEEDED TO BE CLEANED OFF IT WAS RIGHT FUCKING THERE WHERE I KEPT SMELLING THE SMELL GOSH COULD IT BE THE TAAAAAABLLLE HUUUURRRRRRR DUUUUUUURRRR
I am bad at owning a house.
Also, this is a fantastic read.
—emily duchaine
Flommist Emily Duchaine lives in the Pacific Northwest. She likes to drink mead, learn about sharks, and listen to the Talking Heads. She pretends to be a professional businesswoman most days. Copyright © 2019 Emily Duchaine.
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