This too, too solid flesh...

I have always wanted to be a compact, tidy little person. Alas, this was not meant to be. Not only am I tall, but my bulk is always threatening to break the surly bonds of my skinny jeans, so that every bite that I eat must be carefully measured. On the other hand, I have always kind of chuckled up my sleeve at those women who gripe and whine about how sensitive their skin is. Mine has always been elephant-hide tough. Until now. Now, even though I bathe with silky bubbles and never use soap, oh, nonono, beauty bars, there's the ticket, I am (gasp) chafing! Like under my arms, where my ever-so-sensible cotton knit bra tickles my underarm flab. And it itches! Like all the time. Ointments help, for a little while. This bodes ill for the coming winter, when the air is dry as dust. I got some super-moisturizing body wash, in hopes of not getting worse. And I am on my way to Walgreen's for some super-mild deodorant, too. Hopefully, it will settle down. I am too old to go braless.