Today, I had a rather disheartening realization.
Do I have several dry-clean-only garments with set-in sweat scents so potent they could make a bald man’s hair stand on end (courtesy of Mother Nature’s own anti-antiperspirant deodorant)? Yes. But that wasn’t the worst realization.
Have I hit a blog doldrums that finds me encountering frequent writer’s block, playing solitaire while I should be researching natural recipes and feeling sorry for my “Maid” self because my viewership seems to have hit a plateau? Yes. But that wasn’t the worst realization, either.
The worst realization, by far, was that Mother Nature is turning me into a complete crab.
Now, as you know, the Maid did once (if only for a few years) hail from Baltimore. Could I be talking about one of those tasty red crabs best-served with a sprinkle of OldBayand rock salt? I could be, but really I only wish I were. No, I’m not talking about that kind of crab. I’m talking about a crab the likes of which are only equaled by the madness of a jam-packed sorority house at that time of the month (another horrible Mother Nature-induced lunacy).
I know I’m constantly talking about the negative physical effects of MNM, but I have neglected to discuss the emotional implications. Unfortunately, all of my MNM-induced wrath usually falls on my most loyal readers. You wouldn’t believe how horrendous and spiteful Mother Nature can be sometimes, working through her devoted Maid. She can really be a truly terrible person…or entity, if you prefer. And rather prone to idiocies.
Idiocy #1: Mother Nature (working through me, of course) rarely accepts advice, no matter how friendly and constructive. After all, I’m the Maid. It’s my experiment. What could anyone else possibly know about such a thing? What advice could anyone else possibly have to offer that could help me after my hasty internet-based research?
Idiocy #2: Mother Nature (working through me, of course) refuses to accept defeat. Don’t tell me it’s not working, and don’t tell me there’s a problem with my natural recipes, unless you’d like to get a tongue-lashing that stings worse than lemon juice deodorant on freshly shaved pits. I will not give up a recipe, no matter how achingly difficult it’s getting. I may have smelly, sweaty pit stains in certain never-to-be-worn-again garments, but they’re my sweaty, smelly pit stains. And I don’t care for those clothes anyway!
Idiocy #3: Mother Nature (working through me, of course) has a tendency to vent on unsuspecting, undeserving victims. This experiment may be something I have undertaken voluntarily, but it’s stupid, I’ve had enough of it and now you’re going to hear all about how awful it is. Don’t interject, and don’t try to offer advice or counsel, because I will not be considering those at this time, no matter how valuable they may seem. I plan to cut off my nose to spite my face, and don’t try to stop me.
I told you she’s a terrible person, and she’s been turning me into one as well. So, I’m making two dramatic changes to MNM.
Next week, I’ll be conducting an unprecedented experiment within my experiment. I can’t disclose all the details, but I can tell you that we’ll finally be finding out whether sweat smells regardless of deodorant or if it’s just my all-natural brew that leaves day-old sweat scent in non-wash clothing.
I’ll also be introducing RWR – Rachel’s Weekly Ruminations. I can’t disclose all the details, but it will be a weekly (perhaps bi-weekly) one-post break from all things MNM.
So, thank you to whoever exactly sent those suggestions my way. Now commit me to the nearest sorority house where the girls are all crying their eyes out while overdosing on chocolate. Perhaps there I’ll feel at home.