So I was getting some editing done this morning (the story of my life recently) and my father came in, told me he was going out to cut the grass, and asked me if I could go to the trimming. Being a good and dutiful son that's just what I did. I took up the gas-powered edger/trimmer and went to work.
Now it’s a little warm this morning. Like 80 degrees in the shade at the moment, and most of the yard is in the sun in the AM. Some of you may know I have this little thing called Anhidrosis, which, in layman’s terms (and that’s how *I* understand it) means I can not sweat. I don’t naturally thermoregulate at the moment, and I can get heatstroke amazingly easily.
This is a thing it sucks to have in the summer when you work as a mailman, trust me. It’s actually somewhat dangerous.
So I slapped a well-vented hat on my head and went about my business. I worked as quickly as I could (while still doing the best job I can, this was for my Dad, after all) and tried to stick to what shade I could find, but I could still feel myself heating up as I worked. I was wiping at my eyes occasionally since for some reason, possibly the acupuncture I’ve been going to for the past 6 months, maybe some natural cycle in my Anhidrosis, no one knows, I’ve begun to perspire about my eyes recently. And the tops of my ears (yes, just the tips, and yes, it tickles. Ha-ha God, very funny). And under my arms seems to try to get damp occasionally, but not enough to really do anything for me.
When you get hot enough that you’re about to pass out from heatstroke, and then a little damp feeling happens under your arms, it’s really more of an annoyance than anything else.
But all of this is progress, right? I mean, a couple of months ago I couldn’t sweat at all, let alone be aggravated at my body’s seeming insistence that it tease me by reminding me there’s water in there, it’s just not doing anything!
So anyway, there I was, all done with the trimming and walking into the house to take a shower, wiping at my eyes and the side of my neck, and —
Waitaminute! Did I just say ‘the side of my neck’? I did! I did say ‘the side of my neck’!
So I was standing there, excited, trying to figure out whether the side of my neck was sweating or if I had just wiped sweat from my eyes onto my neck. Any sign that the sweating is spreading is a good one because so far this summer had been a little slice of Hell for me, and I’d love it if I could start thermoregulating without a cold vest or pouring water on myself...
Thinking quickly (well, quickly for me) I grabbed some paper towels and wiped myself dry, all over my head and neck — even got my chest for good measure. I wanted to see what spots on me, if any, would spontaneously dampen. But how to tell? Then I remembered an old, very off-color joke (which I will not relate here. If you know it you know it, and if you don’t... well, you probably will before you die. It’s that kind of joke.).
Two minutes later I was standing out in the back yard with a bag of flour I’d raided from Dad’s bread-making gear. Flour flew into the air and I wound up blinking and spitting, but lightly powdered.
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No, not like that! I'm 44 years old but I'd still get in trouble for wasting all dad's flour like that. With my luck he'd come in from riding that mower to suddenly be in the mood to bake a dozen loaves of bread and 'd be in the doghouse...
Nope. What am I, crazy? No, wait -- don't answer that.
Ah, no. And what the hell would I do with those eggs?
We're getting closer...
That's about right!
Like the joke says... all I had to do now was look for the wet spot!
The upside is that yes, my neck was sweating. Sounds gross, I know, but it’s terrific news for me!
The downside is that my neighbors probably saw me and now think I’m crazy.
...alright, know. They know I’m crazy. But at least it’s funny-neighbor crazy, not bodies-buried-in-the-back-yard crazy. At least as far as they know...
Talk to you later!
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