Deo

That moment. 

That moment when you look down, and cry. 

You cry your tears of desperation because it is 7 in the morning.

And you're tired. 

And you woke up too late to shower.

And you're tired.

But mostly because you are really tired.

And you look down again, just to make sure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.

But, nope, they're not. They freeze the image in your mind, teasing you. The emptiness gives you convulsions.

And you come to terms with the fact that you are

all

out 

of 

deodorant.

So you cry some more. Because you can't shower, or you'll be late to work. And you can't do the whole

"Please-please-please, hunnywillyouruntothestoreandbuymesomedeodorantrealquick"? 

Because your husband has already woken up early, gotten ready, and gone to his own job like a responsible person. dang it.

So you begin to compromise. 

"No one will know."I'm all alone. It will hold me over until I can get to the store tonight. People probably do this all the time... and if I use some really girly perfume/lotion/spray concoction, no one will know right?"

So I do the reach-of-shame. My right hand floats over to it as if it's going to be slapped if it gets too close.  I hesitate. But then I do the dirty deed real quick. I slap some on and put it right back. I turn around, switch off the light, and walk out. 

Leaving all of that manly-smelling shame behind me. 

Who said I have to smell girly anyway?