the first victim of nanotechnology?

I think I have a brain tumor.

Since Sunday I've been smelling something that isn't there. I know this isn't real because my wife, who has the nose of a bloodhound, has verified that she's not smelling the thing I'm describing, and I couldn't be smelling the same thing in all the different places I've been in the last few days.

The tumor must be pushing on a part of my brain that is holding some fifteen-year-old memory because though I can't quite put my finger on it, I think the smell has something to do with drinking - a lot - and possibly drugs or a rave or other questionable party location of some sort. The weird thing is that while there's nothing even remotely pleasant about the smell, it doesn't evoke any of the things I'd catalog in that subset of bad smells: stale beer, hangover sweat, bar smoke, scorched hair, broken-open glo-stiks, rotting buildings. It's reminiscent but elusive and oddly foreboding, chemical almost, as if cigarettes and vodka were made with iron and formaldehyde.

The only other thing I can think of is that the nanomaterials used in the kitchen paint I applied this weekend have coated my respiratory system and are slowly transforming me into a carbon-based life form... Oh wait...