Wow. My day is going to be a total stinker.
How do I know this? My armpit has to explain it to me. Hold on just a second and I’ll tell you how I
managed to get here – and by “here” I totally mean “playing Beat the Clock to
get out the door on time.”
First off let me admit
that I am wide awake as this happens, and I am completely and honestly
sober. I cannot blame residual
wine-brain nor can I claim missed-alarm excuses. Secondly, I should also admit that all of my “get
ready and get out the door” products are all in the same bathroom places where
I have kept them for more than a decade: toothpaste is always in the left
drawer; make-up and hair brushes are in the right drawer; deodorant is under
the cabinet to the right; perfumes and other pleasant-smelling Bath & Body
Works sprays are under the cabinet to the left.
I can’t mess up shampoo and conditioner because I keep those in the bathtub
a safe distance away.
Honestly, the system is
fool-proof. Until today.
I’m getting ready, minding
my own business, completely on autopilot.
Everything is going along great.
I have extra time because I just happen to be organized for some
reason. I marvel at how well I am
functioning. Looks like I might even
leave early and get some back-log stuff at work done before the students charge
into my room.
The only thing I have left
to do is slap on some deodorant, throw on the rest of my clothes, and zoom out
the door.
Yup. Grab some deodorant. I hit the nozzle, spray, spray, sprrrrr…
Oh, shit.
This is not
deodorant.
What have I done?!
Somehow I have managed to
get my hands on the cheapo spray perfume impersonator that I keep handy under
the left side of the sink. I don’t even
recall grabbing the canister, but suddenly as the overly-floral stench wafts to
my nose, my daughter’s voice materializes in my head: “That stuff makes you
smell like an old lady.”
Shit, shit, shit. Now my armpit will smell like
an old lady. This isn’t antiperspirant,
and now not only will my armpit be unprotected all day, but I’ll sweat
old-fogey flowery stink-rays all over the place.
Out comes a washcloth, the
soap, and some water (cold water, because waiting for the hot water in the
bathroom sink is like waiting for Godot).
I scrub my poor armpit until the perfume dissipates and the skin turns
raw. Once everything is dry and
stench-free, I apply real deodorant, the proper stuff, the stuff that will stop
sweat and not make me smell like Grandma in the nursing home. I consider choosing another body spray, one
that smells spicy rather than flowery.
No. Not a good idea. I cannot trust myself with aerosols today.
I glance at the clock and
realize my stinking fiasco has cost me the excess time I had gained in the
first place. Now I’m running late. Now everything is going to be out of stink …
I mean, sync.
I toss the canister of
perfume into the trash as I head out the door.
Damnit. Another stinker of a day.
