Not my own you understand, but it is an inevitable side effect of having an association with stabled horses that you will, at some point, smell of pee.
When I just had my own horse to deal with, it was difficult for me to detect this odour, although Neil was like a bloodhound and could smell me coming from ten thousand paces. Now I have a job at a local stud and mucking out several horses is a regular occurance even I can't bear the smell. "You stink of piss!" my husband lovingly informs me (I say lovingly because even though he can't bear the smell, the fact that I am, at last, bringing in some pennies is reason in itself to love me).
I wonder why it smells so bad? A lack of washing machine at the moment means that I am wearing the same clothes on my three consecutive working days as it seems pointless to make more clothes than necessary smell.
This morning on my way to work I opted not to pop into the boulangerie even though I was desperate for some bread as I didn't want the nice lady in there to think that I had turned into a smelly old tramp.
Oh well, it could be worse. At least the shower works!