Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Hot Hot Hot

I went for a run this morning at 7:30, and it was like running through clam chowder. It was the giant hot butthole of runs, and I didn't stop sweating for a full hour after I was done. Of course, my being a huge sweating beast may have something to do with it.

This afternoon at the pool (because there is nothing I want to do more when it's a balmy 99 degrees than get some sun) I stood talking to my friend J-. She was the picture of poolside cool, with her flowy blond hair all flowy, her makeup (!) perfect. I, on the other hand, stood there with my hair sweat-plastered to my head and my face melting off. I am a person of many crevices, and where there is a crevice, there is an opportunity for sweating. Under boob sweat. Behind knee sweat. Inner thigh sweat (I'm sorry to even mention that one). And the grandpappy of all - Pit Sweat.

I remember one particularly uncomfortable summer when I was still working full time. Katie was about 6 months old, which meant that I was full of crazy hormones, and they were making me even sweatier than normal. I even mentioned it to my doctor, who offered this helpful suggestion: Take a shower and put on antiperspirant right afterward. HO-LEE SHIT. I never even thought of that! She became even less helpful when I asked if I should put it on under my clothes or over my clothes.

It was apparent I was not going to receive help from the medical community, and must instead rely on my own wits. And so it became the Summer of the Pantyliner. Come to find out, pantyliners make an amazing, absorbent barrier betwixt pit and shirt. It started out as the Summer of the Maxi-Pad (I still had some of those industrial sized ones left over from having Katie), but that quickly proved to be too bulky. The idea is be inconspicuous, not make it look like you have a serious glandular problem.

It worked great all summer, save a few minor mishaps. A few times I sweated the damned adhesive right off and the pantyliner managed to wad itself up and work it's way down my sleeve. That's right, Boss - I have the TPS reports right here and, whoops! It appears a pantyliner has fallen out of my shirt. You know I played it cool, though. The key is to make it appear that what happened is completely normal. So I simply said "Oh, there that is!" and stuffed it in my pocket. Slick.

Stay cool, friends.

1 comment:

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