I like to think my contribution to the multi-billion-dollar enterprise that is the fragrance industry counts for something. My uncanny ability to register the smell of milk souring, petrichor or a hint of mildew has always outstripped that of my contemporaries. This may sound to you like a humble brag, or, more accurately, a straight up brag, but it is the truth. This is why I’m freaking out over the smoke-filled air trapping me inside my home. Compared to animals, our olfactory system is, at best, weak. Even with a double KN95 mask, I won’t risk leaving my home. And while the latest batch of test cookies from Pepperidge Farm are waiting to be sniffed, my courage fails me. I’m hoping my bosses understands how fragile it all seems to me.