The other day I had a lovely lunch outside with a coworker because, surprisingly, the weather was not super lame. The sun was out and it was warm, and it even made my leftovers inspired ham sandwich (seriously, people, 5 1/2 lbs. of ham is insane in the membrane for a two person family) taste really delicious. Good weather does stuff, man. I even discovered that said coworker is a liberal, and in Utah that’s obviously saying something. Something wonderful, that is. It’s only a matter of time till we rule the world. Just kidding. We don’t want to rule the world. We just want everyone to get along.
An Aside: This one time I went surfing as part of a group date. I’m going to blame my being 5’1″ for how much I sucked at it because, seriously, carrying a 1000 lb. surfboard (give or take a few hundred pounds) above your head when the water is rising above your neck is seriously ridiculous. Seriously. Ridiculous. But this isn’t about my lack of surfing ability or distaste for ocean water (dead fish, people) or self-consciousness when poured into a skintight suit. This is about the 45 minutes I fell asleep for on the shores of the Oregon Coast on a surprisingly hot 90 degree day. Things happen when you sleep directly under the sun for an extended period of time, and they’re usually awful and uncomfortable, and generally made worse when you attend a wedding where everyone feels the need to pat you on the arm. Because:
You can only imagine, I’m sure, how awesome the sunburn was for the few weeks I had to endure it. I mean, you have to imagine it because I deleted the photo off my computer, but think of a lobster being pulled out of boiling water and that was generally how it looked. This tan line lasted over a year, btw.
The Low Point
So we return to present-day, when I had a lovely lunch with a lovely coworker on a lovely day. It wasn’t till I was at home, sitting around on the couch with Husband, wearing sweats, when he turned to me and said, “Were you outside today? You have a sunburn.” I thought he must have been seeing things, but sure enough, there was a perfectly straight line of bright pink skin directly below my shirt sleeve. Cap-sleeved shirts. They’ll get you every time.
The solution is clear. And it should be said that Shadra came up with the solution, which is obviously appropriate since I haven’t managed to avoid getting sunburns during daily activities.
Hazmat suit. I realize you thought these were only for nuclear disaster, but apparently I need one for your basic 72 degree day. And so, in case of pleasant weather, I carry one around in a parachute pack. With a ripcord. Because, you know, the sun could attack my arms at any given moment.