Today is doomsday. Nah, just kidding. But hyperbole can help make light of seemingly dire circumstances… I have an appointment, one I can’t avoid, and I know I’m going to have a fragrance exposure of mass proportions. I have my mask; I’ve organised to be the first one seen; and I can wait in a room set aside for people with disabilities. The nature of this appointment is private so I won’t bore you with the salacious details (deliberately oxymoronic statement, right there!); however, I will tell you it’s at a place where people dress to impress (or not) and spray who knows what on thinking that is the nature of lasting impression. The last time I went there, it took two weeks to recover. Perhaps this time, I’ll be lucky.
The good thing about having an appointment where I’ll be exposed to fragrances, solvents and petrochemicals fuming from the general population’s choice of personal care products, is that I can schedule to go to other places as well. Call that crazy, maybe. But as I see it, I rarely go anywhere anymore where I know I may get sick; such is the pattern developed by people told by their doctors to practice avoidance behaviour around chemicals known to impact on their health; so I often take the opportunity to double or triple up. This way, I already have fragrance all over me. I’m sick, already. I’m wearing a mask. And I’ll need to wash my hair, air my clothes (before washing them, too), and start the recovery process, dealing with come what may. So why not hit the shops? Nick into the Optometrist to get my glasses straightened.
Today, I feel great. I’m not suffering any symptoms. I’m wearing a killer pair of strappy clogs, a grey high-waisted business skirt, a loose houndstooth shirt. My hair is in a bun (thanks to Lilla Rose) and I’ve penciled my eyebrows into a fashionable arch. Do I look sick?
I think not. Will I end up wrecked today? Chances are, yes. If I get out of the first appointment unscathed, my plan is to go for a bush walk at Anglesea Heath. If I’m sick, well then, I’ll go to Target (just quickly) and pick up some panty hose (cause that’s what’s missing in this carefully-thought-out outfit of professionalism!), and then Bunnings to treat myself to a new Bonsai for my collection.
Do you ever double up on getting exposed to chemicals because 1), it makes life more convenient, and/or 2) you’re going to get sick anyway so you may as well get shit done while this is happening!?
PS: Personally, I love my outfit, and yes, it makes me feel—in a cliched type of way—a million dollars; but once I put my mask on and wool scarf over the top of that, it only kind of ruins it. Oh well, ho hum, it’s off I go today…
The Labyrinth: How to Have a Low Chemical Car