I Miss Cocoanut Mondays

I moved out of Ventana on Wednesday. No more roommates. No more 2 options of places to sleep at all times. No more completely on my own with no one to report to. No more of that. I'm not complaining. I like living at home. It's free and generally pleasant and usually not as stressful as living in an apartment. I'll move back in the fall but for right now, I'm good. Except for one thing. Cocoanut Mondays. Allow me to explain:

I always hate the concoctions of smells in apartment buildings . . . particularly the hallways. Have you noticed it? Each time I came home and was walking through the hallway to my door my nose was harrassed by all manner of fragrances. 301's Panda Express lunch, 306's plethora of counteracting french perfumes, 310's trash, 306's particularly pungent human being smell. Each time unpleasant, and worst of all, not at all consistent in funkiness. I would never know what the current funky smell was when approaching the building--it was always changing, but always unpleasant. Possibly my least favorite part of living in apartments. This was always the case except for Mondays. Mondays our lovely hallway cleaning lady would vaccuum and mop and wipe down the handrails in our building. And whatever the fantastic cleaning concoction was she used it smelled like cocoanuts. It smelled, essentially, like paradise--exotic and sweet. I loved it. I would look forward to it all week long and I always knew it was Monday because of the wonderful aroma which took the place on those days of horrendous inconsistency. Isn't it interesting the things we miss most of all? I always know how my home will smell when I get home and I feel that it's fairly positive; we don't have one of those funky-smell houses, I don't think. It's just normal. So I never have to worry about this element of life when living at home. And yet, I miss cocoanut Mondays.