
I have led myself to believe that I, too, carry on this trait. I am very sensitive to smells and form associations with certain odors. I've actually averted tragedy when I've discerned smoke that no one else could detect.
I can sit still and recreate the smell of the skin of everyone of my family. I don't have the education to properly describe the smells - but I can smell it in my mind. That sounds crazy - but it is something that I do that actually brings me comfort.

When I saw the brown paper package at the door, I barely made it into the kitchen to find a knife. I was ripping at the tape as I fumbled with the package. Finally, I unwrapped the cellophane, opened the wee box and gave my wrist a spray. I waited a few seconds then inhaled.
UGH!
It was like fly spray. What on earth had gone wrong? I sprayed it into the air and walked through it. GROSS. This was worse.
Even though I hated it initially - I was willing to give it another try and I wore it to work the next day. It was like being followed by the pest control guy. Luckily, I had scheduled a squash game at lunch so I was able to shower half way through the day. Thank Goodness. I don't think I could've made it through the day.
The really horrible thing? It was nonreturnable and I had paid $80 for it.
I told Bill I had given the perfume to Emma.: "'Thank God. That stuff was vile". I guess he may have a touch of the Martin nose, too.
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