Olfactory Hues

After almost three months in Cambridge, I have decided that college is unequivocally, unfortunately, and inexplicably smelly.

Whether it is the pungent, not-quite-urine-not-quite-vomit- not-quite-menstrual smell emanating from a mysterious (and unlocatable) corner of the bathroom or the thick dead animal smell of the practice room or the striking body odor of afrazzled, hungover grad student T.F. as he sweeps by, arms up, trying to demonstrate a concept in French, everywhere there are unpleasant smells that I either cannot locate the root of or that I cannot do anything about.

And these smells, they are only unpleasant to the degree of annoyance, because it seems that everyone has something more important to do than eradicate them.

This reminds me of the time at home that I unknowingly had a cup of soymilk sitting on my desk that periodically belched foul, fermented gas.

These are the things I articulate when I have an essay to write.