And not because I come home at 10 o'clock from the laundry mat every night and hang up clean curtains while the dog-who-does-not-belong-to-me watches in earnest and the dog-who-does-belong-to-me pees outside.
And not because I worked till 8:30, and will return 12 hours later (OK, maybe the first part of that sentence - the part before the comma - is normal), and not because I hung up every clean piece of clothing I have.
Those things, in my realm of normal, are abnormal.
What felt normal was taking four steps into my dining room before smelling anything offensive, and then walking through my house breathing what feels like fresh air instead of skunks, onions and vinegar.
Instead, I smelled...nothing. And when my brain didn't know how to register this nonsensical sensation and clamored to smell something
Oh, and I came home to electricity. Last night, in some strange twist of I-have-no-clue-what, I had none. Thankfully there's some thread of survival instinct in me. My sister, who surprised me with a surprise visit, and I visited by the glow of a flashlight and when it came time for bed, I donned a long-sleeve shirt, two sweatshirts, two pairs of PJ pants and two pairs of socks. As Texas weather would have it, tonight I'm sleeping with a couple windows open. But whatever...I'll take it.
Air out, Cottage, air. out.