There’s a smell in my kitchen like… I don’t even know how to describe it. Like something died, rotted, the corpse reanimated only to be killed by Bruce Campbell, and rotted again.
But the worst part is that it’s not very strong. So you walk through the kitchen a few times and everything seems fine and dandy. But then, when you’re standing at the sink, rinsing some dishes to go in the dishwasher, it comes out of nowhere and assaults the senses.
Damned if I can figure out where it’s coming from. I’ve sniffed the sink. I emptied the trash can. I asked the Butcher to come in there and give a sniff, but he claimed he didn’t smell anything.
It’s weird, but the smell seems to be located right in front of the sink. Which made me a little worried. What if it’s me that smells so bad?
But at work today, everyone kept coming in and out of my office even though I was clearly trying to work, so I must not smell as bad as this smell or they’d have been finding excuses to be elsewhere, I’m sure.
Now I’m worried that one of the animals has dropped something small in my nose and it has lodged in my sinuses and started to rot, so that it’s a smell only I can smell.
You’d think that people would not be able to get things up their noses, but my dad once got a peanut stuck up there, so it’s entirely possible. I don’t know why the animals would stick things up my nose while I slept, or even how they would accomplish that without thumbs, but they’ve been spending a lot of time in-doors since it’s so unbearably hot out. And the tiny cat has moved from her spot on the suitcase in my room to a perch on the step-stool in the kitchen, which lends even more to the theory that the pets are involved in some kind of psychological experiment on me.
Or maybe something has crawled under the house and died.
Anyway, my dear friend, The Professor, has volunteered to come over and see if she can smell it too. If she can, we’ll locate the cause of the smell and rid the house of it. If she can’t, I may have to read up on pet-induced psychosis.