I like to wear boys’ shirts. Especially if they just peeled it off (pending it’s not after sweaty foray.) I will pick it up off the floor or the dirty clothes basket and wear it to sleep in. It’s already been warmed up and sleeping in it is like a constant reminder of a hug that I may have gotten earlier in the day because that hug had the same smell. I realize this already borders on half disgusting, but I’ll just one up it by saying that boys usually smell like celery to me. And I love it.
As a joke, ex-boy picked up Jack’s blanket, the one he goes nutso rolling on after a bath and the one I throw on the kitchen floor for him to push around all day while I’m at work and the same one I use in the car to avoid wet dog from getting onto the seat, and he rubbed this blanket in my face. Aside from the initial wad of dog hair that almost made me gag, that puppy dog smell made want to crawl into bed and spoon with Jack. He sometimes lays curled up tight right against me and then throws his head back to look straight at me. I lean my forehead against him and fall asleep like that. It’s a wet puppy dog smell for sure, but I swear it’s enough to release some kind of pheromone relaxation response.
If I can keep a stash of dirty boys’ shirts and dirty puppy dog smells, I should be good to go come midterms and finals. Aside from the small problem of perhaps grossing people out when they come to my apartment.