What You're About To Read Is Very Poignant And Serious. Very, Very Serious.
Sometimes when I’m relaxed, my hands and feet sweat—even first thing in the morning before I get out of bed. Other times, I’m totally dry. It doesn’t make sense…my sweat glands seem to be on their own schedule. Like I’ve got an automatic lawn sprinkler, and someone rigged it so I can’t turn it off.
When I’m nervous, my hands and feet sweat even more. And when I know I’m going to be in a situation where my sweat might be noticed, well, that’s when the lawn sprinkler gets supplemented by a garden hose. I think it’s always helpful to have a scapegoat for these sorts of tribulations, so I blame the extra sweat on an imaginary bald, fat, retired, lawn care-obsessed gentleman with too much time on his hands. He is standing on my palm, watering me with a very pricey garden hose from Smith and Hawken. He wears a Hawaiian T-shirt and hums Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.” (Yes…Neil Diamond rocks!) The man cannot stand it that no matter how much he waters my palm, I do not grow AstroTurf. He is worried...will the neighbors scoff at his pathetic lawn?
It helps me not to take this disease too seriously whenever possible. Oh, any suggestions of names for my garden hose man are welcome. I was thinking Igor.