Sweating and Changing Clothes

"Can you see my arm pit stain?"

In the northeast, we are currently experiencing what a frighteningly chippy, chiclet-toothed weather man on my TV describes as a “heat wave.” The weather graphics would like me to believe that the sun is wearing sun glasses (because he can’t look at himself in the mirror?) and sweating (some scientists would maybe disagree with this).  But I know the truth; we are just having what’s called a “New York City” summer.  I mention this not to piss off my (non-existent) constituents in colder climates, but rather to explain the circumstances which led to me changing my work attire after having arrived at work.

I’m a creature of habit and sometimes I demonstrate certain OCD-like tendencies.  To be fair, these tendencies are very slight and would probably classify as “being-a-lazy-shit-and-not-wanting-to-think-about-things-to-much” tendencies.  I have a very specific way of packing my pants pockets in the morning to maximize storage and availability of items.  My cell phone always occupies my front left pocket.  I prefer it here because it is a bulky item that I can use as an excuse to adjustment my package when the moment warrants.  My keys and chapstick (yes, I AM a woman but at least I’ll be a woman with moist lips) fit snuggly into my right front pocket.  In the certain cases when I am carrying my ipod and have no jacket, the ipod will also occupy this space.  Finally, my wallet slides into my right back pocket.  All in all it’s a solid routine that helps me not forget things in the mornings when I’m still a zombie.

This morning I went through my pant’s pockets filling routine and left my apartment for work.  Now my work is close enough such that I can walk.  On warmer days when the specter of me walking into work with my dress shirt sagging at the arm pits under the duress of sweat, I usually take the subway but today I made the executive decision to walk it out.  Of course, I arrived at work 20 minutes later dripping sweat in my (now) rumpled work attire looking like a whale tried to eat me.  But, huzzah, I was at work!  I would soon be in the cool comforts of AC!  So I went up to security ready to hand over my ID which was in my wallet, which should have been in my right back pocket…but it’s not there.  FUCK ME.  I’d left my wallet at home with my effects.  So I did the only thing I could do, I walked my soggy ass back home.

And that is the story of this morning.  I arrived home and realized that my perspiration had grown by a factor of 8.  I no longer looked like a whale tried to eat my but rather like I’d tried to commit suicide by jumping in the East River.  I immediately jumped in the shower and put on new clothing then took a cab back to work despite the close proximity.