Sweat

When I cleaned my room on Sunday, I made my bed. I was surprised to find a down comforter in the linens closet. I asked my father if he wanted it, and he said that he and my step-mother had found it to be 'too heavy,' and I was welcomed to it.

Cool!

I like a lot of weight on me when I go to bed. In fact, during the summer time, even if it's one of those hot, humid sweltering nights, I've gotta have something over me. And not just a bedsheet either. Something I can feel. Weight.

Well I've got weight. Must be the down of forty'leven geese in that comforter.

And the past two mornings, I've woken up in the morning drenched in sweat. My pajamas just soaked. The heavy comforter and my neoprene flat sheets from Nasty Pig (before I was boycotting them for their lack of support for the community in NYC) make for a furnace.

I love this.

Sweat is good. We like sweat. A lot.

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