Today has been a good day and not just because it’s been my first (mostly) day off in I don’t know how long, and also not just because it was my first day off without having to worry about driving a boat the next day, and also not just because I went to the gym and sat in the sun and am about to go eat pizza and watch Breaking Bad with a friendly female companion who for some reason still puts up with me. Today has been a good day because for the last few days, there has been a smell in the bathroom and I finally found the cause of it. I’m very sensitive to bad smells. I can’t abide them. And this was a sneaky but definitely present smell. Every time I went in there, I was subjected to it. I had been assuming it was a toilet situation, some kind of small rupture in the seal beneath the floor that was causing subtle, noxious fumes to waft into the room. I was dreading the hassle it was going to take to remedy the problem. It was probably going to have to involve notifying the landlord and this being San Francisco in 2013 and me not possessing one of those inexplicable jobs an hour south of the city where they ferry you to and from work in gleaming presidential yachts on wheels and pay you unreasonable sums of money to do something involving computer code or “platforms” or the invention or maintenance or promulgation of frivolous smartphone icons that only other people involved in the invention or maintenance or promulgation of other frivolous smartphone icons give two flying fucks about, the only reason I am able to remain in this city is because I am lucky enough to live in a rent controlled apartment although I am not on the lease and my “roommate” who is on the lease hasn’t been around in a number of years and so anything that involves notifying the landlord is fraught with the very real danger of litigation and potential homelessness.
It turns out it was just the new bathmat I bought at Target the other day.