Smelly Smells

Work is slow right now, which is why I'm sitting here blogging instead of perpetrating more evil (I work in advertising now as opposed to nonprofit, where I'd been for six years). Someone, somewhere in the labyrinth of cubes, is eating some kind of breakfast sandwich. I can smell it. And it smells really good.

Since I've gotten back on track (for three entire days, ya'll), which includes not giving into everything I want whenever I want, since I often wanted things like greasy breakfast sandwiches, my sense of smell has kicked into overdrive.

This is not always a good thing in NYC, though mercifully it is winter time here, and it's cold. When the temperature rises above about 50 degrees, things start to stink.

Yesterday there was food leftover from a portfolio review lunch, and it was all spread out in the kitchen area on a very long bar. None of it really looked that good, because it had been pawed through, and the squares of sandwiches were coming apart with limp lettuce and mealy tomato slices were strewn about. But it sure did smell good. I felt like Grenouille in The Perfume, because I could separate out each separate odor: cheddar cheese, mustard, yeasty bread, chocolate from the various cookies and brownies.

I'm not saying never to greasy breakfast sandwiches, cheese, bread and chocolate. I just can't have it every stinkin' day, unfortunately, and not gain weight.