The sweaty mess.

I was recently not only traveling to a new city that I had never been, but moving there. This having been the first time I had ever moved anywhere via plane, I unfortunately now realize that I definitely over-packed, to say the least.

Since I had two gigantic suitcases stuffed with clothes and other various items so much so that the seams literally clung to each other for dear, sweet life, I really had no room for sweatshirts or sweaters. My alternative? Wearing them all, one on top of the other, on the plane.

Though I looked like a drug smuggling, skinny-faced yet overweight person, I somehow got through security, on the plane, and to the luggage claim at my new city with no problems. As I was awaiting the arrival of my new Craig's List roommates who were coming to take me to my new flat, I suddenly started to become extremely warm under my three sweatshirts, one large sweater and jacket. The 30-lb backpack on my back coupled with the rock-heavy laptop strapped across my shoulders did not help the situation.

By the time my new roommates got to the airport, I had become nothing less than a seething, bumbling, profusely sweating ball of hot.

I was hoping they wouldn't notice, but as I loaded my gear and my person into their very small vehicle, a thick cloud of moisture started to spread itself across first my passenger window, then quickly to the back windows, front windows, driver side window and what surely had to be the windows of any cars passing by.

"Haha, I guess I'm a little warm right now. Sorry guys," I mumbled with a sheepish grin to my tiny, expensive clothing-clad, perfect new roommates.

"Oh, yeah, um, it's no problem," they replied, confused, most likely wondering if I was going to heat the entire apartment all summer with my immense, no less than shocking body sweat.

And that, dear readers, was my first experience in my new town.