This is a sarcastic dance. |
You know what I'm talking about ladies. It's awesome, right? You're sitting at the computer before bed, trying to get some work done or at least check in on the state of the universe. You're in some sort of nightie/chemise/tank top - sans bra - because wearing a bra in this heat would make you kill puppies. You've got the overhead fan on full-blast, moving the hot air around you.
After about 30 seconds, you feel it start to trickle: boob sweat. You pull out the front of your nightie/chemise/tank top and see the wet spots that have appeared underneath your boobs. First they're just small - like the size of a quarter or loonie, but after about 5 minutes they have grown to the size of pancakes. The last time I had to deal with wet spots that size on my torso was when my breast milk first came in. After the wet spots appear, it's usually when you reach into your clothes, you know, to test the temperature underneath your boobs. I took a thermometer and stuck it under my girls: 104.5 F!
And then you realize that your ass, too, is sweating. And your inner thighs. And your shins. How can shins sweat? There's nothing to a shin!!! How are sweating shins even possible?!?
I found myself wishing that the semi-shag rug in the office was made of terry cloth so that I could tear off my clothes and roll on it. I was this close to doing just that when I remembered that I hadn't vacuumed lately and if I did tear off my clothes and roll on the semi-shag carpet, my sweaty body would then be covered in cat hair and carpet lint. Although, if someone took a photo essay of me doing that, maybe I could make it into 'art.'
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