You Perspire, I Sweat Like a Stuck Pig

I am unsure if this blog has been made aware of my wee bit of a sweating problem. Not that I smell, the problem lies more in the wetness department. So much so that if modern science created a way in which to turn my sweat into drinking water, just let's say the word "drought" would go the way of floppy discs and hyper-colored tees. Now you may be shaking your head, saying "No way a girl sweats that much." But let me inform you dear reader that this girl does sweat that much. In fact, one time the sweat bore its way through a shirt, a sweater, and finally a leather jacket (then it ran down my leg, so I left a trail like a slug). Later that evening, examining my newly pit stained coat; I decided that perhaps a doctor visit was in order or join Ringling Bros. as "Sweat Girl - Stainer of Shirts". One does not know true embarrassment until uttering "Ah, yeah, so Dr. Weinstein, I think that maybe I have a sweating issue, because well, I sweat a lot, like through jackets, made of leather." So a prescription for Dry-Sol later, my sweat stood no chance. That is until recently. I have not used Dry-Sol for at least 3 years doing fine with Powder Fresh Secret Platinum - as it is strong enough for a man, a woman and apparantly, the genetically mutant. However, for the past two weeks it seems my glands have upped the ante, and "embarrassing wetness" once again reigns. However, thank you Secret Society of The Sudoriferous Sort, it seems deodorant now is available in "clinical strength". Ten dollars later, I am the proud owner. Please note that I solely blame my parents, as one day while discussing this very issue with my brother, he said "Me too, Cassie. Me too." We both cried and hugged finally happy to find "someone just like me." So yeah, I hate my Mom and Dad. Why couldn't I have crooked teeth and get braces like everyone else? No, I have to sweat, so that currently residing on the under arm of my white button down is an abstract of The Great Lakes.