A New Version Of The Old Scene

I have less than nothing to say.
It's hot for the first time all summer. Everyone around me groans about how cold and rainy it's been and mutters darkly about global warming. I LOVE it. I am happiest hiding in the dark like a slug under a flat rock, so this entire cool rainy summer has been marvelous to me. The minute it went over eighty degrees I started to suffer. I mentioned this to my daughter, who remarked right back that I'm the one talking about running off to a warmer climate when in fact I love the cold and the winter. That made me feel funny, half sad and half bitter. I do love the north, I do love the Pennsylvania hills, and I miss being there. I want to go back. I can't. Plus it's hot here right now and everything's slightly gritty and everyone on the street is wearing jeans and t-shirts while they look cool and collected and I'm a sweaty irritable mess in shorts and a wifebeater. Maybe it's hot flashes; who knows, maybe mentalpause is sneaking up on me at last.
I was sitting with my guy just watching some random show we downloaded - Nurse Jackie, I think, or Breaking Bad, we're huge fans of both - when I looked over at him and was struck by how beautiful his profile is, how very well drawn his features are... And I felt this huge surge of love for him that frightened me. Usually we are pretty copacetic; we both go along at our own pace, we turn to each other for the things that we need and the rest of the time pursue the trains of thought in our own heads. It reminded me how lucky I am to have him, and so as a sort of offering to the fates or spirits or gods (none of which I really believe in, mind you) I intervened in the love life of two people I barely know because they were being stupid and I could do it without cost or obligation. They were grateful, just as I was grateful to be with such an all-around wonderful guy, and so I paid back karma in its own coin. I feel pretty good about that.
The other day I got an email from a young doctor I knew from back in the days when I was an administrator in a medical school. She was peripherally involved in my care when I was in treatment for the cancer and she was curious (and concerned) about how I've been doing lately. I told her that I'm fine, and that I do have all of the longterm symptoms they described but still feel really pretty great in spite of them. She offered to see me, free of charge, if I wanted to come to the city where she practices. I've given it some thought and decided against it; I don't need a long trip for just a diagnostic, however free. Even if it was bad news, what could I do about it right now? Nothing. So I will not worry. I feel good, and I'm sticking with that.
Or I would, if it wasn't so blasted hot. Canada sounds pretty good to me right now. Tornwordo, will you smuggle me across the border?

Title lyric from "Ragdoll" by Aerosmith.