After my shower, I can dry dry dry (and we all know 3 in a row wins) with my fluffy towel, and still I’m not totally dry.
Face it, fat old ladies have many nooks and crannies and they seem to store water better than a camel in the desert.
Being a fat old lady means not so many wrinkles (you can’t put a wrinkle in a bubble), but my skin still seems to absorb water like crazy, only to cough it back up the minute I try to get dry.
Seriously, this morning after lots of drying with the towel, I was brushing out my hair, and I could feel the wetness returning. Not as fun (or as dirty) as it sounds. Just drops of water popping to the surface. Places I knew damn well I had dried, were suddenly artesian springs.
So I accept my reality. After showers, or baths, or other dunkings, I will remain damp until such time as God has a chance to finish the drying process. And if there is no God, I’ll just have to leave it to the universe to mop up after me.