Today is my 26th birthday, or as my mom described it, "being closer to 30 than to being 20." The day got off to a less-than-stellar start as I walked from the bus station to the Tim Horton's in a swirling cloud of skunk spray. A giant skunk had been squished on the highway, and the weather on this particular morning was nothing short of a howling gale, sending the potent stink in a far-reaching radius that included the bus station where I get off, the Tim Horton's that I patronize and the front door to my office building.
As I walked to get my morning coffee, the smell seemed to be following me, so much so that I thought I may have been sprayed by a skunk and not noticed it in my Monday daze. I started to panic, wondering how long it would take to get the smell out of my hair and clothing. Would I need some sort of skunk bath? Should I cancel my Tuesday night hair appointment? Would dyeing my hair help with the smell? Should I still go into the office? Will Tim Horton's serve me smelling like this? Will the skunk bath fade my tan from the weekend? Amid the ridiculous questions I was asking myself, I saw the black, white and red smearing of skunk on the road. It was really, really gross. I was sad to see the dead skunk, yet relieved to see the root of the evil smell.
The rest of the day was great; I got cake at work, cake at my parents' house, lots of love and messages from friends and family, and at the end of the day I didn't smell like skunk. What more could a girl ask for?
1 day ago