random thoughts – Day 1,511 – (Wednesday) – life stink

Today stunk a little bit. Literally. It’s week two, maybe three of the delightful stretch of time where I can smell and taste cigarette smoke, where none exists. In the house. In the car. At work. All in my head.

Lilac fresh.

It happens two or three times a year, but I’m not really sure because it’s not the sort of thing I’ve tracked like a scientist, even though I now wish I had. The smell and flavor are gross. But when I watch episodes of Sex and the City with character Carrie Bradshaw chain smoking, it’s more of an immersive experience, like I’m really there with her, inhaling the noxious output of her tobacco death sticks.

To further enhance the fragrance of current life, this morning, after running the coffee maker, the house smelled like scorched coffee. Or maybe it was just me. I may never know for sure. 

While staring out the kitchen window and admiring the lilacs across the yard, I decided to cut some. The lopper tool was used to reach the tallest stems, and a dozen were cut, which I know because I seem to count everything. Bleeding hearts were snipped from the overgrown plant near the shed to add to the blue glass water pitcher with the lilacs and for a stem vase for the narrow kitchen window sill.

Bleeding hearts.

The fragrance of lilacs wafted through the air, creating an intoxicating (or maybe it was nauseating) blend of actual lilac with undertones of actual scorched coffee, permeated with the phantom smell of cigarette smoke lodged in my nose, throat, and mouth. I hoped that when I returned from the office, the scales would tip to favor the lilac and eliminate the scorched coffee.

After a day tainted by the inner cranial stench of smoke, but free of the added aroma of burnt coffee, I concluded the coffee smell of the morning was probably a real thing and limited to home. Back at home, the aroma of lilac greeted me as I opened the door. With hints of burnt coffee. The flowers looked pretty but droopier than they did in the morning. Maybe the real smell of burnt coffee wore them out. I know how much the smoke smell is wearing on me. I just wish I knew how it will last this time. Or better yet, how to make it stop.