PlazaJen: Passion Knit

There is work being done in the building. What sort of work, you innocently inquire? The sort of work that makes the air smell as though there are a thousand black markers with their caps off, and we are back in college mounting art projects on foam core with the fixative spray. This scent is telling some gland in my body to generate saliva at the back of my tongue, and the saliva tastes like I have been sucking on an old tin can. The gnomes that reside in my brain, they do not like this smell, and several have sat down in the corner. A couple are stomping their feet while shouting, "I don't like this!" so it also feels a little headachey without being so severe, we find ourselves in the car driving home. One person here thinks it is affecting his nervous system, as he has run into walls several times today. But he could just be klutzy, and personally, I can never use motor skills or lack thereof as a good litmus test, I trip on lo-pile carpet, for heaven's sake.

In any event? The smell? It must to be stopping now.