Stink Train
The stench is unbearable. My office is complete chaos, but it is not coming from anything I left in there. No, the stench is me. True, I showered last night, but I was too lazy to grab a clean shirt this morning. so on with the old and out with the ewww! Rancid acrid sweat is not my favorite odor. Still, if I do not move much, and am very careful not to raise my arms, it should be tolerable.
The snake plant, which so far has survived droughts, light deprivation and great heat, seems to droop further every time either of my arms come up. Damn. How am I supposed to to reach my water glass when even I want to hurl with each pungent whiff? Can this be healthy? Did I die and just not realize it yet? I have to go shower again and change before I do myself permanent harm. Just . . . damn. That is one foul odor.
