As part of the unemployed elite, my beauty routine is severely disrupted, so I sometimes forget my deodorant. I spoke to a friend this morning where I loudly lamented that I smelled “Like a trash can”. Thank the lord that we were on the phone and that she couldn’t experience my stank firsthand. Not that my deodorant would be much help in freshening my pits, as it is August and I use that natural stuff. I was born and raised in the DEEP SOUTH, so I’d always used high-grade, high test deodorant- the kind of stuff that could poison a small village and deter a possum attack. When I had Boychild, I switched to the au natural stuff I didn’t want his little snoot next to a possibly toxic, yet sweet-smelling mom-pit. As long as I breast fed, I kept to the natural deodorant. But after I put the boobs away, I just kept on with it, despite sometimes really needing the hard stuff.

Most deodorants in the supermarket are really overbearing and instantly take me back to 8th grade gym class, when smelly pits and suffocating amounts of perfume blended with cigarette smoke to create olfactory chaos. All the deodorant scents were either fruit or flowers, with names like “Glitter Plum” and “Rose Musk”.  In 2019, there is a startling lack of sophisticated scents for one’s underarms. I’ve already smelled like a teenage girl once in my life. I don’t need to revisit the days of reeking like a bouquet of flowers left in a hot gym sock or smelling like a half-rotten strawberry in an old jar of salsa (with top notes of social anxiety).

I’ve got extra time on my hands now, which has led me to some really weird discoveries about my appearance, like I have six (SIX!) white eyebrow hairs in my right eyebrow. I’ve also discovered a long blonde hair growing on my cheek, precisely where a dimple should be. When the h*!l did that happen? I also have a bunion on my right foot that I’ve named Paul. He’s very large. If perchance I get on one my left foot, I’ll paint it blue and name it Babe.

I’m amazed at how many times I change clothes these days. I reckon being unemployed requires more wardrobe choices than being employed. I can usually get away with two outfits a day: a work outfit (usually all black or all grey) and men’s boxers with an old t-shirt for bed. Yeah, I’m keepin’ it real spicy in the bedroom. Being unemployed, I need a sleep outfit (see above), a grubby outfit for homedoings in case I paint or dig in the dirt, an outfit for the beach if the weather’s nice, and an outfit for public consumption. It’s a lot of laundry, but I have time to do it.

This has been a nice break from working. Please give me a job.