It’s simple really. But first, you need to know that this post will probably gross some of you out (if you’re really, really sensitive, or you have no sense of humor).
To be honest, I didn’t even realize it was an obsession until my brother’s wedding. I was talking with two of my sister-in-law’s close relatives and we were discussing deodorant. This is a logical discussion in south Louisiana. It’s hotter than Hell here, so deodorant is important.
It wasn’t until I mentioned that I spend about five minutes putting deodorant on a day and have a can of deodorant spray at my office desk that my sister-in-law’s cousin said, “You’re OCD about deodorant.”
It was one of those Hallelujah moments. Like…”Finally! I see the light! I don’t like to stink! This makes so much sense!” And yes, all of those exclamation points are necessary.
Like I said, it’s hot here in south Louisiana. Oh sure, the temperature could say 82, but when you add in humidity and heat index…well, it’s like standing in an oven. A ten second walk from an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned office will leave you with a nice little film of sweat. Spending hours and hours outside pretty much ensures that your clothes are soaked down to your underwear and that clinical strength, ain’t-nothin-gonna-get-by-me deodorant was pretty much washed away.
This bothers me. It really does. I don’t know when this obsession began because I was a pretty active kid (before I discovered the fine art of reading). I’m sure I had the puppy-dog smell like all kids do, but at some point, I became an olfactory snob. I only want to be around kids when they smell like baby lotion and baby powder.
When it comes to my own smell, it drives me crazy. I smear copious amounts of deodorant on, do my lavender lotion routine, then spray on my perfume, and then top it all off with a dab of honey scented perfume. Overkill? Nah. Everyone says I smell good (first thing in the morning). But by the time the end of the day has arrived, the only thing saving me is the solid perfume in my purse because my deodorant is a thing of the past.
Oh and if I can’t remember if I put my deodorant on in the morning? You know, because I just went through the whole dressing routine trying to remember the words to “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia”, I spend the rest of the day doing the I’m-stretching-not-trying-to-smell-my-armpits thing. Don’t act like you don’t do it!!
So far, I’ve lucked out and my body puts it on automatically. However, best friend wasn’t so lucky. *dramatic music plays* We were in college. We stopped at Burger King for a bite to eat and for some reason she decided to duck under the brass rail (she also wore Barney shoestring holders and a reflective backpack and no she isn’t mentally challenged). Anyway, she ducked under the rail and was about to release when she stopped and sniffed her armpits. “I forgot to put deodorant under my left arm” she told me. I almost cried for her.
So yeah, if you’re at Nationals or any other conference I may be at…and you see some strange woman waving to someone who isn’t there, or stretching in the middle of a very exciting workshop where NO ONE is feeling lazy, or you wait for the elevator and when it opens to show you a woman hastily lowering her arm…that isn’t me. Nope. I’m bringing about a case of deodorant with me (okay, maybe not a case, but at least two sticks!), so I’ll be good to go.
How about you? Are you accidentally OCD about something? Are you a squeaky clean deodorant whore (cause you can’t be a filthy deodorant whore, that just doesn’t make sense). Do tell, we’re all friends here…