Why do we say "Pee-yew"?

Last night, a skunk burrowed past some chickenwire to get into the crawl space underneath the place we are renting (or so we hypothesize). First there was a musky waft from the kitchen, the sort of nose-wrinkling but not unpleasant odor you associate with highways at night.

It was soon followed by a truly lip-curling stench unlike any I have known before. Dr Hyde and I variously identified it as rotting onions, burning plastic, and smoldering insulation before our landlord dropped by and assured us that this was Skunk.

We spent the evening turning on fans, opening doors, etc, and we slept in the guestroom, which was fortunately less pungent than our own bedroom. We don't know if the skunk(s???) is still in the crawl space, or for that matter what will happen if our semi-outdoors cat should encounter him.

Anyhow, the point of this post is that my jeans, which had been hanging in the bathroom to dry after laundering, have taken on the Eau de LePew. I spent today in lab, emanating odor. While this was distressing to me and, one may presume, to my colleagues, I must say that things could be worse.

Reasons to be Glad I Have a Lab Job When I Reek
a list I never thought I'd make

** Labs are well ventilated, with something like 8 full air changes per day. Thus my wafting skunkness is not encouraged to linger.

** While the lab has an open floor plan, we're not sharing office cubicles. The nearest person sits about 12 feet from me and is often not at his desk. So I have some space to fumigate.

** There are many smells in lab that compete with, if not dominate, my own. Mouse cages, bacterial growths, chemicals--heck, even Advisor's dog, in a show of solidarity, peed on a desk today. Malodorousness loves company!

If you're wondering, Dr Hyde gave me a useful idea that markedly improved my experimental setup, and that's why I am so cheerful in the face of our odoriferous misfortune.