I have a very sensitive nose. My mother used to say that hers was “like a bloodhound,” although the metaphor only extends so far, seeing as bloodhounds will inhale their own shit. I think she just meant to say it was sensitive, which it was. And I have the same curse.
At least once a week I play a little game called “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT STANK?” It might take the form of seeking the source of a 
mysterious smell, or repeatedly, obsessively sniffing a food or drink item to make sure that it hasn’t gone bad. I’ve sacrificed many chicken breasts to my “dude that smells rotten” zeal.
Not convinced that it’s a curse? Consider.
1. You know that plastic smell inside new garbage cans? We just bought one of those plastic dispensers filled with water, AND THE WATER SMELLS LIKE THAT. I find it difficult to drink.
2. Car exhaust gives me migraines.
3. One time, Harry vomited on the radiator pipe while it was running full blast. The resultant smell drove me out of the room. Mmm, fried cat sick!
4. I can’t quite bring myself to replace our vacuum cleaner bag, since it’s not technically full, but it gives off this horrible musty odor every time I run it. Ugh. Mom used to have this allegedly vanilla-scented thing she put in hers, but it just made it smell like moldy cookies. Fuck vacuuming.
All this nose power, and I was still unable to detect the rotting onion in my kitchen until it turned into PURE LIQUID DEATH. What good is it?
None. I just emptied my trash and discovered the most amazingly unique and horrifying smell. Most smells in the trash I can identify – old meat, old cheese, old potatoes, old fruits, old veggies. It’s all fine because I know where it’s from. Even the smell of rotten chicken is okay because it’s familiar. This….this was something altogether 
different and awful. And to make things that much more exciting, the handle snapped off the trash bag as I was trying to tie it. For the second time this month.
God as my witness, we will never buy off-brand trash bags again.
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