Really, I'm not a particularly sweaty person. I'm not even particularly active. I'm more of the picked-last-for-dodgeball type.
But let me tell you, sweat I do here, in all sorts of unsightly places.
The good news is, I think the group sweating thing has a lovely bonding side effect. We teachers sit in the sweltering cafeteria, furiously mopping at our brows with the same packs of tissues that will later serve as our toilet paper. We mop and lock eyes with junior high students over noodles or oddly gray duck eggs. They look over at us sympathetically, and we at them, as if to say, "We're in this together, we motley crew of hardened language lovers."
And then they reach across the cultural divide and pull off the chunk of toilet paper that's stuck to our (read: my) forehead.
