Sometimes I just want to talk about things that I shouldn’t. Today’s discussion is about hot flashes. I know you don’t want to hear about them, but I’m going to share. If you don’t want to hear the story, it’s ok, there are lots of normal people that blog on crafty sites, unfortunately, I’m not one of them.
One of my girlfriends asked me if I would help her reorganize a space that she and another woman share at an antique market. She refinishes furniture and the other woman makes deco mesh wreaths, candles, framed art, and a variety of other crafty projects. Their space is probably 25 feet wide and 15-20 feet deep. It holds a LOT of stuff. The owner of the antique market doesn’t really believe in air conditioning, and yesterday, the temperature was almost 90 degrees, so it was extremely warm there. Not only was it warm, but it was also very humid. It was so humid, in fact, that we couldn’t get the metal tape measure (that normally retracts automatically), to retract. It was humid and I was miserably hot. I started with a minor hot flash and within a half hour of being there, my entire head was drenched in sweat. I tried mopping my head, but that really didn’t do much (besides glue my hair flat to my head), so I just let it drip. I looked and felt disgusting, but I was committed to helping, so I soldiered on. The antique market was open, but they thankfully had very few customers, (so very few people saw how bad I looked.) And then it happened. A woman walked up to the booth (that looked like an explosion had gone off as everything was off the walls and either in shopping carts or on the floor), and says to me, “You look familiar.” I immediately said the town I was from (which was about 40 minutes away), thinking that would end the discussion, and the woman said, “Rich Parker.” This is the exact moment I tried to crawl under something and hide, because the sweat was now pouring down my back and I knew I looked like a wet dog. She said “I met you once at a restaurant, and went to high school with your husband.” Really? What are the odds that I would run into someone who would recognize me from meeting me once and would remember me (even though I swear I didn’t look this bad the other time we met.) She’s telling my girlfriend that she came specifically to see this booth as she is friends with the other woman that she shares the booth with and then looks back at me. I decide to diffuse the situation by explaining, “hot flash, you know how these things go,” and she says, “I’ve never had one.” I could have cried or karate chopped her in the throat for saying that, but I just smiled and said, “wow, that’s lucky,” but inside, I was dying. I was just waiting to get home and have Rich mention that his facebook page was buzzing with all of his high school friends, talking me and my new wet dog look.
All I’m saying is some days it’s just not worth getting out of bed when you have a four hour hot flash ahead of you.