I smell awesome

I started saying this a couple years back, at derby practice: "I smell awesome." It started out as sarcasm, but grew into defiance; you don't smell that awesome by not doing awesome; i.e., if you're just coasting, you're not going to stink as bad as I do by the time I'm done being awesome.

But just now I leaned my head in my hand and OH wow, do my hands ever stink like wristguards. If you don't know what wristguards smell like (and I suppose there are a lot of people in this world for whom that's not a part of their daily existence-- weird!)... You know how feet smell different from any of the rest of your body? Wrists do too. They don't smell like feet. They don't smell like armpit. They don't smell like knees or elbows (which also sweat something awful and have their own unique stench). They are to the rest of your body like your feet are, only somehow, incalculably, worse. It's a truly astonishingly horrible odor, sharp and musty and tangy and horrible to an indescribably alarming degree.

Ew.
OK I just had to take a break to go shower. Now I smell like peaches or something. Rock on.

I did awesome tonight, though, at least as far as my own personal goals are concerned. ( I look so pretty in stars. )

Oh Chita is skeevy-kneading the afghan beside me. She is the cutest.

Also Z had made dinner so there was food when I got home. And a beer. I'd be in bed now but I have to finish this beer because it's so good. Mmm. Beer.

Oh sleep. I would like to do you for a year. I cannot. I have seven hours. Go!