The Smell of....

Another smoky fire. Excuse me, another EXTREMELY smoky fire and I come back to the station reeking of woodsmoke. Yes, it's a smell reminiscent of camping out and it brings back good memories but I smell like I was hoisted on a spit and rotated slowly for hours, but not basted in my own juices.

Wherever I went, I left an stagnant odor. Even being sprayed down with Lysol air freshener didn't help. Earlier, driving back from the fire, I had both windows down in the live truck, trying to blow the stink off of me or at least air out the truck so the next person wouldn't have to tolerate the smell being stuck in the truck through the day. I tried as best as I could but I couldn't take too much of the 20 degree air plowing into my face. When I went to pick up my youngest at his pre-school, his teacher wrinkled her nose and looked at me, her face asking a question without vocalizing it.

As the day wore on and I came home from work, a shower was the first thing on my mind. As the Dial soap started to take some of the smell away, I started to think. Yes I know, a dangerous thing. But getting back to my thoughts, I sort of see what I went through as a badge of honor in my chosen profession. Whom else runs to a fire scene except the emergency workers and us? Lookie Lous do also but aside from their morbidity, we're there next to the fire, police and rescue units doing our job.

It's a smell that regular people hardly ever come back to work smelling like. Maybe that's a good thing. But I guess I'll choose to wear it as a badge of honor for my chosen profession.

I'll still complain about coughing up black crap. That's just annoying.