The FedEx Boy

Today was interesting in a very ironic personal situation. I had to go to FedEx to get my finger prints done because I am going on a mission trip in June. Yes, I am catholic. No, I’m not crazy.

Anyway, I really despise doing fingerprints because I suffer from something called “hyper hydrosis”. Technically means that my hands sweat pretty much all the time, which in this case is unfortunate as you can tell. Mind you, they don’t sweat all the time. Only when I don’t need them to is when they decided is the best time to start the waterworks. My father thinks its psychological which I guess to an extent it is but honestly it’s definitely biological also. Considering both my parents have told me that they have also experienced hand sweating.

Back to FedEx though, I’ve actually had a lot of awkward encounters because my fingerprints can’t be read and people don’t understand that hand sweating is an actual problem. I’ve always had people look at me weird and in disgust because my hands sweat. Like, I’m sorry? If I could stop it I would, but let’s be real if I could we would not be having this conversation.

As I was driving to FedEx, I start getting anxious because every time I go is a complete shit show. Cue my hand sweat. Walk into the store and I had to wait in line feeling what seemed like every pore in my hands start to drip. It’s my turn and I tell the guy, he asks me for my confirmation number so I hand him my phone and hope he doesn’t notice it’s damp because my hands were touching it. Then something happened that has never happened before in my experiences with fingerprints. As I put my hands on the scanner, obviously my fingerprints can’t be read and then the guy asks me if I get sweaty hands. Embarrassed, I tell him yes but to my surprise he says “so do I”. I know that other people have this problem too but I haven’t actually met someone else that did, until today. And as silly as this may sound to all you non-believers out there, I thanked God. I suddenly felt this wash of relief over me because as he was helping me dry my hands, his hand on top of mine, was sweaty.

So, thank you sweaty hands guy. Maybe we’ll meet again some day and talk about the struggle of sweaty hands.

-Ipseity girl

Advertisements

Identity-less

For years I’ve been taught to be polite but I wonder if also for years I’ve taken being polite too far? I guess in some ways you can say that “sorry” is my ultimate favorite word and it’s so crazy because not until recently have I realized this. My whole life I have been apologizing for all the wrong things. I’ve been apologizing for things that make me, me. I’ve been undermining myself for so long now that I have no idea how to make my way back to my old self. I find myself in this constant search for identity that I’m not sure I even have.

Petal by petal I’ve been changing myself physically and not only until recently have I also noticed that these are not my opinions but those of others. “Take off your glasses, you look better without them”… Shit, I used to love my fucking glasses but it’s gotten to the point that before I go out, I will wear my contacts because I am “prettier” that way.

I want to stop doing this, to stop caring, to just. I want to just be myself but I don’ t know who “myself” is anymore or maybe I never even knew who she was in the first place.

I realize that keeping this blog anonymous goes back to the whole caring about what people think but I’m working on it, I promise.

-Ipsiety Girl