I doubt that any of the three of you left remember back about three years ago when I had the night sweats and short-of-breathness and my doctor kicked into high gear doing blood tests and pulmonary function tests and pee tests.... before we finally just decided I had that mold thing from living in an RV in a west-coast rainforest?

Eventually, as mold things go, I just got better. Especially once I moved. But, off and on, I've remained little Miss Midnight Pool-O-Sweat. Disconcerting. Gross.

This week, after three nights of wine with dinner and three nights of revisiting the joy of swimming in my own sweat.... well, you see where I'm going with this, right?

Not red wine. Which is what I usually drink. But white. Which I don't drink much of, since, it so happens, I was drinking a lot of after Matt went home. And I lived in the RV. With the mold. And the rain. And the no heat thing. And the profuse sweating. And my unhappiness.

I can't find any information about white wine as opposed to red, or for that matter, any wine at all causing night sweats on my beloved intraweb but I still have the feeling that I've made the right connection. If only for the simple fact that nothing in the world works the way it does for everyone else when it comes to me.

In hindsight, so much becomes clear.