Odor Itinerary and Olfactory annunciations

Bless us oh Lord for RantWoman has been called to add to her daily olfactory itinerary.

Most days RantWoman trundles along fine with average pleasurable cooking smells, occasional recognition of people because of their lingering tobacco smoke, and the disagreeable daily immersion in weed residue RantWoman did NOT vote for when she voted to legalize weed. Today however, RantWoman's olfactory menu includes multiple bonus irritations.

I Won't Wash My Hair Friend has kindly subtracted perfume. RantWoman thinks the I won't wash my hair gesture would not be necessary if said Friend were to get crazy and actually promote TALKING WITH rather than yelling AT RantWoman, but that is another story. RantWoman has no idea whether her olfactory reaction to said Friend was due to hair care products, residual aromas in clothing, sunspots, the Presidential Twitter feed, North Korean missile tests... The point is RantWoman was clear to move.

While fleeing Mysterious Residual Aromas Friend RantWoman fell into a cloud of .... drum roll please...laundry detergent. Mercifully, RantWoman finds the chemical odors more bearable than flowery laundry products. Not THAT Much more bearable but RantWoman had already come in late and moved once and decided just to bear with.

Ahhh, but God was not done with the aromatic annunciations. This was only 9:30 worship.

RantWoman entered 11:00 worship closer to the top of the hour than average. RantWoman walked by the first section where she had been sitting earlier. RantWoman was nearly overcome by a WALL of mutually reinforcing perfume odors. God is RantWoman glad she as a rule does not sit in that section. At least the prevailing aromas were different from the earlier hour.


Comes now Coffee Hour and a conversation with RantWoman about a visit to the other Friend's house. RantWoman mentioned a strong odor of mold somewhere. It's the northwest RantWoman notices mold smells often. RantWoman speaks up about it less often. It turns out that Friend and her husband were trying to track down a small leak in their plumbing. Ugh. RantWoman's nose does not lie.

The rest of RantWoman's day was olfactorily unremarkable until... RantWoman hit the empty elevator in RantMom's building as RantWoman was headed home from Sunday Supper. Talk about perfume overkill. Blecccch!