Forget sweaty palms....

I have a confession to make: I'm a nervous sweater. Hey, it's better than being a nervous poo-er (Like my cat. Meaning, I can't ride with her in the car unless I'm wearing a gas mask). Moving on. This sweating occurs in various situations. When I'm in a heated discussion with a friend, or if I'm in front of a group of people, or when I'm going for a job interview (like today). I arrived at the appointment all cool and collected until the interview started. And when I walked out of there, my clothes were wet. Like soaked-through-my-shirt, thank-goodness-I-wasn't-wearing-a-dark-color-because-it-would-be-a-different-color-by-the-end, wet. I was all too happy to get out of that building and to some place where I could air out. And if you think that's bad, how about going to the store afterwards to try on bathing suits and then having to put your wet clothes back on. Gross!

Edy's cookies and cream. But I sense Ben and Jerry's in the future....