A Clamy Observation

Since I was very small, I acquired the name "Clammy Cami"

This picture may or may not be an exaggeration of the moistness level of my dear hands.

I went through life so lost and confused as I pondered the reasoning behind my overly humid appendages. Not only were they wet, but they were very cold. I could have called them Everest hands. They had their own storm system.

As I have gotten older, I have done research and found that I have a condition called Hyperhydrosis. There isn't really a cure, but one website recommended "having a small dry towelette nearby at all times"

Thanks a lot.

However..... I have noticed a difference lately. It goes a little bit like this:

DRY HANDS! WHAT?!

(my fingers aren't quite falling off, but it feels like they might sometimes)

Right now as I type this, my hands are as dry as a baby's dry bottom. This shows further evidence that maybe I don't have hyperhydrosis after all, and maybe I just had an extremely anxious childhood, causing my hands to sweat. Wait. Nope. I didn't have any sort of unsettleing childhood. I think I was just hot a lot.

Anyway, the conclusion I came to was that when I am nervous or anxious or otherwise uncomfortable in any way, my hands largely resemble the first photo. But at times where I am in a nice, comfortable happy environment, my hands dry out and return to normal temperatures and I can put away my dry (or sometimes not so dry) towelette. Woot. I can no longer fool myself into thinking that I'm happy and comfortable when I'm on a first date. Dates are the WORST. My towelette runneth o'er.

It's a very useful tool actually.