I looked up the definition of “skunked” after writing the title to this post. To defeat overwhelmingly, or something of the like. I concur.
In less figurative terms, I got skunked last night. As in skunks got into a tiff and sprayed under my kitchen floor. Now, I’ve smelled skunk spray outside my window before, and even on my cats. But to have it contained in my house is an experience like none other. I was jerked awake around midnight, eyes and throat burning, unable to make sense of anything. For a split second, I thought it was a gas leak. But gas is much sweeter than this. There really are no words.
I spent the next 8 hours airing, washing, and spraying every surface I could reach with whatever cleaning supply I had in the cupboard. By 7 am, I was able to breathe again, and the smell was somewhat contained. But I still get whiffs of it at every turn. I’m not convinced I will ever be free of it again. Ever.
It wouldn’t have been so bad had I not spent the afternoon in the orthopedist’s office enduring yet another misery: cortisone shots for my tennis elbow (or gardeners elbow). It was my first and hopefully last experience with cortisone. I’ll skip the details, but it entailed two shots using two of the largest needles I’ve ever encountered first-hand. The only positive thing I can say about the experience is that I have limited use of my elbow again. And it’s better than getting skunked.
I’m deliriously tired right now and am not going to even bother editing what I just wrote. All I want now is a quiet night of sweet, sweet dreams.