There's Something About an Aqua Velva Man

That was one helluva week. I'd like to say that it's over, but it's not, as I'll be cooped up in a basement tomorrow, scanning brains. Compared to the rest of my week, however, it'll be a walk in the park. I'm sure you're familiar with weeks like this, especially if you've had the post-secondary school experience of having two final exams and two term papers due the same week. I had no exams that I had to write, personally, but the student I was supervising did. This meant that her hectic schedule became my hectic schedule. To boot, my other student also had a deadline today.

So it was with great relief that I ended my work-day early today, having also submitted changes to the author proof to my manuscript, which, because of the rest of my schedule, I didn't begin until about 4 hours after the 24 hour deadline indicated in an email that I didn't get a chance to read.

Amy was good enough to give me a lift home, and I unlocked the door in eager anticipation of the chance to put my feet up, and perhaps video chat with my beautiful family. I still haven't put my feet up, nor have I called my family, because I had to first write this segue into what I found when I came home: an Aqua Velva Man. Or rather, the smell of one. I suppose it's better than the smell of chicken left to rot on the fridge (I may have blogged that story once). But to smell a department store musk in one's house when: 1) one has been out all day and 2) one doesn't use department store musk is rather strange.

I looked around the house for clues. No new insurance policies on the table. No for sale sign on the lawn. No retired golf buddies sipping scotch in a leather armchair. So that ruled out the three most likely candidate musk sources. I suppose it could have been the lingering scent of one of my house guests from last night, but I don't think so.

So maybe it's just me. I have had olfactory hallucinations before, so maybe I am joining the ranks of those weirdo synaesthetes. Or maybe it's just the week getting to me. Time to go put my feet up.