My boss started calling me Snowflake. The main reason being I'm constantly seeking shade when we're out and about.
Snowflake originated when my boss decided she wanted to pick up a HoneyBaked Ham the day before Thanksgiving this last November. I tagged along for the journey. For my American readers, have you tried to get a Honey Baked Ham before Thanksgiving or Christmas? It's pure madness. It's as if we are required to have succulent ham for the holidays. I suppose we are, but my goodness.
HoneyBaked Ham, where you can work on your sun tan. |
So there we were standing in a long line. Of course the sun was beaming bright. I think I recall it being around 75. That damn sun was piercing the line with its deathly rays. I felt droplets of sweat forming. The feeling is a familiar one. It's a feeling that I know if it continues will lead to a sweat-stain-embarrassing-disaster.
To my boss I said, "I'm sweating. This sun. I don't know if I can take it."
My boss, "Here stay in the shade. Stay as long as you can." The shade was a small sliver of cool created by a pillar. The shade lasted only moments.
Then my boss suggested, "Go in the liquor store. Go cool off Snowflake. I don't want you to melt."
And that's when Snowflake was born. I'm never ashamed to request the seat in the shade, or request some ice water. "Snowflake, are you melting?," is a comforting phrase.
My coworkers have no clue I suffer from a specific condition called hyperhidrosis, but they know I sweat and that I "melt". They know I get uncomfortable. They're also awesome for accommodating to my sweaty needs.
If you own it, you might just get an awesome nickname out of it.
xoxo,
Snowflake
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