Monday began like any other work day - I got the kids out the door, wiped down the kitchen counters, put some dishes in the dishwasher, moved laundry from the washer to the dryer, and got ready to head out the door.
And then . . . flowers.
Fresh, beautiful flowers - the scent was overwhelming. And not flowers, exactly. Like a hint of flowers in a field of freshly mown grass, with a clean breeze wafting over a nearby stream to carry it all. It was invigorating.
But where the hell was it coming from???
I didn't have a candle burning, and my current scented candle is apple cider - very autumn and not fresh and spring-like at all. And it was cold, with a lid on it. So why was I smelling springtime?
My next thought was perfume, but it certainly wasn't mine. I normally wear a gorgeous (and fresh) scent called Inis Or that I bought on my trip to Dublin, but it didn't smell like this. And this sort of scent is absolutely not Anna's style. Still, I walked around the living room looking for a perfume container with a loose lid or a spill, and came up bust.
Oh no! The dryer! I use Gain dryer sheets, and a lot of them because I have a stupid front loading machine and it gets a ring of mold on the door seal that I constantly fight so I put in extra fabric softener sheets just to be safe. Was my dryer vent blocked? Was the fresh scent of Gain overwhelming my house because I was about to have a dryer blow up or catch fire??
I ran into the laundry room, but it smelled like nothing. The dryer was running, but there was no sunny springtime scent in here. I still wasn't taking any chances. I stopped the dryer and continued to investigate the house with no real luck.
Finally, I had to give up and get on my way or be very late to work and have to explain to my boss about a wave of invisible freshness wafting through my home. So off I went, and as I pulled into work and prepared to get out of my car, the scent hit me again. This time, it had to be something on me, or with me. I pulled my shirt up to my nose, inhaling deeply. Then did the same with my cardigan. Then I gave my coworker an embarrassed nod as she looked through her car window at me because she pulled up next to me and didn't know what the hell I was doing.
I made my way into work, still going nuts over this. I got another waft of it as I was in my cubicle a little while later, and again in the pantry when I was reaching for a teabag.
What. The. Hell.
So I started thinking (this is dangerous for me) and I remembered that sometimes, when you have a brain tumor in a certain part of your brain, it can make you can smell odd things. Like things burning or heavy perfumes or medicinal smells with no known cause. Is that what was happening? Do I need to call my doctor? I'm still a young(ish) woman! Oh, God - don't let it be a brain tumor!
Luckily, before I could start writing my own epitaph, a coworker stopped by my desk and asked directions to a nearby conference room. I stood up and pointed, and got slammed in the face by a tsunami of fresh and clean. And then the realization hit me. Here's the culprit:
That's right, folks. Old Spice Fresh.
You see, Anna had gone to visit a friend over the weekend and took my anti-perspirant with her. That left me with the Old Spice, which her brother uses. I didn't have the energy to hunt through the house for my anti-perspirant after my before-bedtime shower on Sunday night, so I swiped on David's and reasoned that with my thriving social life, no one was bound to notice.
No one except the nutjob with the exploding dryer and the undiagnosed brain tumor, anyway.
So that was my Monday. Just another day in the life.