My apartment smells like pooh, and I’m not talking about A.A. Milne’s cuddly bear. As a whole our apartment has had to cope with an over-abundance of unpleasant odor, which I will now chronicle for you now.

The Rotten Milk incident- I have since wrote about this on previous blogs so I won’t go into large detail except to say that it was enough to trigger my gag reflexes in an impressive way.

And then there was the mold ordeal. Please don’t think we as an apartment have terrible hygiene. I think we have about the same amount of cleanliness as most college co-eds, which is to say, we shower daily, wash our hair every other day, and fuss with our hair far too much and usually we do our dishes within an hour of having eaten them. It was an apartment malfunction that led to mold, where our air conditioner leaked coolant into our carpet steadily for about a year while maintenance men were continually stymied by the repair, and thus mold began to grow. Now I know how to diagnose a mold problem: The carpet smells like BO.

But today, today, might be the worst of all smell problems that we’ve had, and I feel like I’ve encountered more than my share of nasty smells in my life. But last night when I returned to my apartment after some late night homeworking, the overwhelming unpleasantness of methane gas hit my nose, and knocked me to the floor. My apartment smells like pooh, like now we also have a plumbing problem to contend with. I say this not to be crass but to be blatant and truthful. It smells so bad. Don’t be surprised if you see the residents of #9 running around with gas masks for the next week until the problem is fixed.

In Summation: It is time to move. It is time to move. It’s time to move.