The egg salad sandwich

It was my second day of work after having not worked for 3 months. It seems strange to say, but an 8 hour day of work was exhausting. It was more exhausting than walking on a mountain for 8 hours a day. My body hadn’t been bumming around the last few months, but maybe my brain had been. Anyway, the day was proceeding at an acceptable rate and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I was in the back most area of the building unpacking, counting, and stacking shirts that had just arrived when the smell of pot roast cruised into my nostrils. (I know… you probably read that as just ‘pot’ the first time, but this isn’t that kind of story). The pot roast had been brought to share with whoever wanted a chunk, so it remained on the counter for awhile. The food aromas had pleasantly masked the smells of the screen printing that was going on around me. What does screen printing smell like? My best description is warm paint mixed with hot machinery and a hint of sour. Maybe chemicals? I’m not sure, but the pot roast had been a nice change. Once the pot roast had been put away, the smells of mass production once again filled the air. I continued to unpack and count shirts when I noticed a new smell wafting in around me. An eggy smell. My first thought was that someone had brought an egg salad sandwich for lunch…. the nerve of them… but after a decent amount of time had gone by, I began to worry that the smell was me. I mean, once the food has been consumed, the smell shouldn’t linger, should it? And there’s no way someone took an hour to eat their sandwich. Egg sandwiches are like tuna sandwiches. You just don’t eat a tuna salad sandwich or one of the egg variety in the company of others. It’s common courtesy, right? No one here seemed the type. And had anyone actually had an egg sandwich for lunch? As much as I didn’t want the smell to be me, it was the only logical explanation seeing as I hadn’t seen anyone eat a sandwich of any form. 

I continued to work, trying to occupy my mind, but I swore every time I made an abrupt movement the smell got worse during the moment I’d agitated the air. This was ridiculous. I needed to find out if the smell was me. I couldn’t have my coworkers thinking the new girl smells like eggs. And if it was me, I needed to take action because smelling like eggs is not the way to make friends quickly. Maybe I could just say, “Weird that it smells like eggs in here, right?” with a quizzical look on my face and then say, “Does it always smell that way during screen printing?” But then what if they didn’t smell it? I’d then be drawing attention to the eggy odor that they now would assume was me. My armpits began to nervous sweat. I was totally stressed about this insignificant thing. I once again tried to focus my attention on my work and began exhaling heavily in attempts to blow the odor away from my nostrils. Great. Now the new girl can’t breathe properly. 4:30 finally came and it was time to go home. I was anxious to get to my car because it would be my official test to find out if I was producing a nasty odor. Being trapped in my car for the ride home would tell me if I did indeed smell like eggs. Sometimes a ripe toot can stain the air in a car for several hours, so I knew my body odor wouldn’t escape. And folks, I have good news. I don’t smell like eggs!

I did take a shower when I got home though… just in case.

My newest insecurity at work is the fact that every time I get up to go to the bathroom, the EDM song that’s blasting through the speakers is to the beat of my natural walking pace. I’ve been stutter stepping and changing my speed to not look like I’m on an epic dance mission to make it to the toilet in time, which in turn makes it look like I really am about to wet my pants. Things could be worse though… I could smell like eggs.