Boob Sweat

I spent much of the weekend digging in the patio from HELL in my backyard. Seriously, we haven't even gotten to the part where we put the pavers in the ground; we're still at the dig-up-sod-until-you-want-to-die part.

See, there used to be a giant maple at the end of our postage-stamp sized deck. When we bought the house there was only a stump left of the maple and the mister and I took care of that in our patented lazy-ass-homeowner way. We built a fire pit around the stump and burnt that sucker down over the course of a summer. Then, we tossed a layer of dirt over it, threw down some grass seed and called it done.

Now, years later, we cut up the mini-deck and are digging up sod for a patio. And all the roots from that maple? Well, they're messing me up. I'm doing most of the digging, but I REFUSE to use an ax to chop the roots (I'm accident prone), so I dig-dig-dig until the roots really get in the way, then I wait for the mister to chop the roots out so I can continue.

Anyway, I've been outside in the heat, the pouring rain, and the sun, digging in the yard and I am officially declaring boob sweat to be the most annoying of all feminine problems.

I'm mean, PMS sucks, and the way raging hormones can mess up my digestive tract is also no picnic, nor are high heels, pantyhose, underwires, bad hair, eyelash curlers, childbirth or the glass ceiling, but boob sweat? Yuck. The way the bottom of your sports bra gets all damp and then soaks your t-shirt so that it gets that weird line just under the bust, but no where else, the way you can actually feel the sweat pooling in your cleavage, and the way that if you shovel indiscriminately, a little bit of dirt can get in there, mix with the sweat, and create a mud puddle right there between the ladies? ANNOYING.