Short weeks screw me up so much. It was Saturday before I realized I hadn’t written. This past Saturday – all day – was my church choir retreat, so I didn’t have time to write then, either. Sunday morning we sang in church, Sunday afternoon was football (Who Dey!?), and Sunday evening was recovering from spending time with so many people for so long. Actually sat at home for the first half of the game just to recharge a bit. I love my choir; we sing some challenging music, and we challenge ourselves with the speed in which we learn new music – I’ve gotten *really* good at sight-singing. And we’re good. Looking forward to our December performance. I love my friends, the ones I watched the game with, the ones I watch most football games with. After a week having to make phone calls to strangers, I’m tired. I *need* my time to myself. I get grumpy without it, and when I’m grumpy, I can be pretty nasty. Just ask my former roommates.
Yesterday was pretty cool. Not the day at work – I’m in the mortgage business, and times are a bit tense right now in the industry – but after. Because we exceeded a goal in July, we got to go to a baseball game, with one of the top teams in the league. Not all of us were there, but most of my team was able to attend. We split up into two bars, one with underwriters, one with processors (not really sure how that happened. I don’t think it was conscious), one in Kentucky, one in Ohio – it’s not as big a deal as it sounds – and we had a great time.
Today, even though a lot of us left before the 7th inning, we were all dragging. Feeling pretty good, oddly enough, but exhausted. It was hot last night, and it took a while to reach the 6th inning. Some of our group didn’t walk in their doors until 1 am…to be fair, they were driving to Columbus, Ohio, but still… It was hot, did I mention that? It was. Humid, too. A bit on the unpleasant side. ‘Cuz it was hot. The thermometer I pass on my way home said it was 89 degrees at 10:10 pm. During the day, that thermometer is less accurate, since it gets hit with the sun directly, and it is surrounded by asphalt, but it’s not too far off. Obviously I had my camera with me, so I had to do some editing before I went to bed. Did a bit of tossing and turning. Besides still being wound up from being out late, it was also hot in here. ‘Cuz it was hot outside.
But I digress…
We most of us know what today is, what anniversary is recognized. I could tell where I was when things went down, but I’ve done that enough times in the past. Recognizing the day, absolutely. But like January 28th, there are some memories I would rather not have, at least once in a while. I don’t want to forget, I just want a moment to not think about it.
So, that said, it’s Writing Prompt Wednesday. Today’s prompt: Writing Prompt 9 – Describe what you feel right now using your sense of smell.
This could be interesting. Or weird, it could just be weird.
I’m irritated, tense, knowing that any day I could have the rug pulled out from under, knowing my current money situation. That’s a constant twitch, a twinge of something sharp, not quite unpleasant, but not pleasant, either. Something that you haven’t decided if it’s fresh-cooked hard-boiled eggs or last night’s chili. Sulfury, with a hint of cinnamon, the tang of citrus nearly rotting, sweet and cloying, nauseating and foul.
Uncomfortable, the aroma of something that smells good but probably isn’t. For me, it has lots of mushrooms and Brussels sprouts in it, broccoli and cheese (broccoli alone, cheese alone, fine. Together? Ick!), or maybe just escalloped potatoes.
Sorry, it’s dinner time.
Discomfort is uncertain, unclear; is that a sirloin or liver I smell? Is the meat fresh, or is it just about to turn? It’s deceptive; chocolate chip cookies or a spray meant to mimic them? It’s stronger than it has any right to be; mustard greens and chit’lins. Stale (or off-brand) baby powder, foot odor covered by perfume, armpit with a hint of soap. Sharp, tangy, bitter, but not quite bad enough to make you change or move or wash right that moment. It’s not quite men’s locker room after a game, just before showers
And I’m exhausted. It doesn’t smell like anything. It’s muffled, hidden, practically non-existent. But it causes a craving for sheets fresh out of the dryer, that sharp, hot smell of clean, a hint of the detergent, the dryer sheet if one was used. It’s a gentle aroma, peaceful, restful, encouraging snuggling and relaxation, peace, sleep.
Right this moment, I crave the smell of tomato sauce and cheese, slightly burnt around the edges, and gooey in the middle, followed by that hot linen. It will be a while between the two, though; we’re having a food day at work, and I have a breakfast casserole to put together. Egg-y, cheesy, potato-y, sausage-y goodness, all blended together with a bit of sage and dill.