Friday, January 3, 2003
It's sweet, almost sickly so, this smell that clings to the apartment nearly a week to-date of that fateful morning when I decided to go balls-out, making breakfast extraordinaire consisting of hashed browns, french toast, fried eggs, and -- to my ultimate horror -- maple-and-honey-flavored bacon. A word to the wise, unless you currently use a syrup-scented airfreshener, do not under any circumstances consume this scourge in your own home. At the very least do it in someone else's. Leaving the windows open for days upon end has had no effect, as has multiple applications of Lysol, PlugIn's and incessant incense burning.
The only solution: have it for breakfast again this weekend.
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