And it's coming from my fridge. Or my freezer. I can't tell which. They both reek. My kitchen smells like the Bog of Eternal Stench. I have investigated and investigated and I give up. I extracted everything I thought it could possibly be, and I still gag every time I open the fridge door. Which, it turns out, is about 5,932 times a day. You never realize how often you go to your fridge until you almost pass out every time you have to do it. And it's not like the smell goes away once the door is closed. No, it lingers, for at least 3 minutes afterward. My whole kitchen is permeated with the smell of something resembling rotten broccoli. Awesome.
Even my freezer reeks, and it's all...frozen!! How can various clumps of ice smell like a decaying animal carcass? I don't know if the smell is leaking from the fridge to the freezer, or the freezer to the fridge, but either way, if it's spreading from one ridiculously cold enclosed box to the other, it's pretty bad.
This would be cause for anyone to go a little crazy. But for me, it's like my own personal hell. I loathe bad smells. I always have. I know that no one likes bad smells, but I really can't tolerate them. We took a field trip to the humane society my senior year of high school to rescue a dog, so, not only were we in the smelliest building in town, we were in the smelliest room in the smelliest building in town. I don't know which was more overpowering, the urine smell or the wet dog smell. Anywho, I don't remember anything about rescuing that dog. I was concentrating so hard on not throwing up in front of my classmates that I wasn't aware of anything else.
There's a picture of me as a kid at the Woodland Park Zoo, standing there crying. (I can't find said picture, probably because it's in slide form along with the rest of my childhood pictures.) Was I crying because it was time to go home? Was I crying because my mom said I couldn't get a stuffed zebra souvenir? No, I was crying because we were standing next to the horses and the smell of manure was overpowering. So I was bawling. Apparently my parents thought it was funny and saw a Kodak moment.
So you see, my malodorous kitchen is torturing every fiber of my being. My poor husband hears about it every time someone opens the fridge. "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY WHAT THE FREAK IS IT??!!"
I will find you, mystery odor, I will. And when I do...you and your foul-smelling, offensive smell won't know what hit you.