My undershirts live in the top drawer of my dresser. The top seven or so are laundered, and land back on top of the pile. To avoid wearing out (haha) these seven, I frequently grab a shirt from the bottom of the pile. This is what I did today, and I have regretted my actions ever since.

I don’t know what happened, but the dang undershirt (from here on referred to as Thing) smells like wood. Some sort of musty pine or pressboard smell has infused itself into the fibers of the Thing. To be honest with you, I smell funny. Think of sticking your nose in a book in your grandma’s basement … now you’re getting there. I considered a couple of options to address the situation:

• Run away screaming
• Cover odor (more cologne, more clothing)
• Bleach in sun while wearing

I managed half of my second option (a zip-up sweatshirt), given my need to be at work as soon after dressing as possible. So here I am, typing away at work, covered by clothing, trying to avoid catching a whiff of whatever this Thing is.

I’m going to get a different, less weird smelling, dresser.

• Clothing

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