Whew! Thanks for the concern, but it turns out that I may not be all that hot after all. Well, no. I’m hot, but I’m not perimenopausal hot. As it happens, southern California is having some kind of heat wave again, and because H.E. takes great pleasure in commenting on my small range of tolerance in temperatures, I made the assumption that something was wrong with me.

“It wasn’t even all that hot. It was only [insert a two- or three-digit number here] degrees yesterday, and you were hot?! What a pussy!”

And for once he wasn’t raining rivers of sweat, so I thought he must be right. It must be me!

Well, it’s not me. Everyone at work was talking about the weather today, about how it’s been lately, and how much hotter it’s supposed to get.

So good news! I’m not menopausal. Hell is simply moving into California—you know, to balance all that rain and wind going on in Florida.

Thank goodness! I am not that hot after all. And I am not a prodigy. 🙂

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