By a series of unfortunate events, a crock pot with a pork roast was started in our house at 9PM last night. The roast, marinated and bathing with three lovely onions, slow-cooked throughout the night. Surely its taste is heavenly, but the pungent aroma radiating from it all night was just too much to warrant undisturbed sleep. I woke several times to the meat's all-encompassing aroma; it's powers of attempted seduction created a rather sporadic sleep pattern.
This morning, post-shower, I climbed back into bed and draped my wet hair across my nose to block out the smell. It was just too, too much.
My roommate and I had this conversation today:
me: NO MORE MEAT AT NIGHT
1:50 PM Linda: yeah i know, sorry
me: it was cracking me up and grossing me out all at once
1:51 PM Linda: yeah, me too
me: it was SO STRONG
Linda: i woke up gagging actually