previous // May 06, 2008
// 11:19 p.m. // next
I was going to go to bed and save this for the morning, but there's a smell in here and I'd be proud to claim it if it were actually from me. I decided to do dishes tonight after the 100th eppy special for Dancing With the Stars (with special appearances by, among others, Helio Castroneves... I told MB he can have Julianne Hough all he wants if I can tango in the naughty way with Helio. He agreed, surprisingly enough... hm...). I knew there was a certain funk eminating from that corner of the kitchen, and as we've been invaded by carpenter ants (joy in the morning), I figured I'd cut them off before MB douses the place with chemicals. It wasn't a strong odor, but enough to notice when we came in, and since MB wasn't in any hurry to wash them, the chore fell in my lap. Of course I forgot that I wear the apron in this relationship, silly me.
In all fairness, MB has washed his share of dishes and I'm happy for that. He also gets to clean the litter box while I grok in a corner, so I should just shut up now about the (uneven) division of labor around here.
So, back to the funk. MB didn't notice it so much by the back/front door (technically the back door, but since we use it regularly, I sometimes forget and call it the front door. Hellooooo blonde!) as by the stove/garbage can area. He had taken out the garbage after cleaning the litter box the other day, so the Mystery Funk was still eluding us. Until I remembered that, um ::cough:: two weeks-ish ago I made this mac and cheese thing with peas and kielbasa and stuck the leftovers in the oven (which is still useless, by the way, thanks for asking) so Tenae wouldn't help herself.
Guess who forgot all about it??? ::raises hand::
Let's just say it was worthy of a blue ribbon science fair entry. It immediately went in the garbage and said garbage immediately went out to the back porch with the hope that MB will take pity on his pseudo-wife and take it outside when he leaves for work tomorrow. I scrubbed the heck out of the pot it was in, and yet the Mystery Funk was still very much in residence. The hell?
Then I got the bright idea that it was the dying flowers on the table. Mom C had given me a little vase of pretty pale daffodils last week and the stems were getting to the consistency of overcooked asparagus. They got pitched and the vase washed. I also, recovering from my collosal blonde moment, decided *now* was the time to throw away the roses MB gave me for... get ready for this... Valentine's Day. Both vases got washed and the Mystery Funk still remained. The hell?
Finally it hit me. The Tupperware grave yard in the fridge! Of course! All leftovers go to the fridge to die, duh! From the looks of the insides of our fridge, we have a largely liquid/alcoholic diet, with the occasional yogurt/condiment/sour cream diet. Of course, why didn't I think of it sooner? So I donned rubber gloves (because apparently the science experiment from the oven was okay but the ones in the fridge are worthy of a HazMat suit) and cleaned the fridge out, so now MB has two bags to take to the alley tomorrow.
Every flipping dish and container in the house is now clean... and I can still smell the Mystery Funk. This leads me to believe that it's now attached to me like a rancid fart and no amount of scrubbing will get it out. Just be glad this diary doesn't have Smell-O-Vision-esque abilities, otherwise you'd be in a corner grokking too. I 409'd the sink and surrounding counters, I Lysol'd the garbage can, and put a fresh box of Arm & Hammer in the fridge. I might have to clean the oven, just to squash any leftover funk. But it will have to wait until tomorrow. I'd rather go to class then to bed high.
Mayhaps I'll whine about the Richmond race tomorrow. I'm still stinging, even with hindsight being 20/20 and all. I just don't have the energy to think about that right now. Let's just for now leave it at the little weasel did so turn right and stamp my feet and pout a bit.
Until the a.m.,
Ter
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