Floors are done, 2 coats instead of four – I feel like all I've talked about is the floors, clearly, I need to get out more – and they look gorgeous.
Last night, I lay on the couch and read, with a fire going and all the windows and doors open, and I could taste the fumes on my lips and in the back of my throat. Blur!
And in my hair, and on my skin, imbued into my fingernails, and down my pants, and on my hand when I rubbed my face, in my nose when I picked a booger. Everywhere. I’m saying it had entered my life on a cellular level and it felt like I’d never be rid of it. Ha ha.
I couldn’t run from it, I couldn’t escape it, I couldn’t get away from it.
I felt like I was going to go to my grave with that smell.
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