1.  Thanks for all your comments on the tell-me-about-yourself post yesterday.  I read and enjoyed each and every one of them.  Incidentally, it’s still not too late to comment.  (I’m talking to you, Mel.)  (And the rest of you.)

2.  Yesterday my husband came home from work and informed me that according to our thermostat, it was 92 degrees in the house.  Which was even worse than I thought it was.  I mean, it certainly felt at least 92 degrees, but I have a tendency to exaggerate sometimes.  Especially about heat.  Like the time I said it was hot enough in our bathroom to fry an egg on the toilet seat.  That was probably not true, strictly speaking.  On the other hand, strictly speaking, I have never attempted to fry an egg on my toilet seat, so who’s to say what’s “true” here?

3.  It was so hot that we went out for dinner.  We had Vietnamese sandwiches at Best Baguette.  Let me tell you right now, I love Best Baguette.  I would eat there every day if I could get away with it.  Every day.  Heat or no heat.

4.  This morning I woke up and the thermostat said it was 85 degrees.  That’s when Sugar Daddy decided to go out and buy a wall-unit air conditioner.  He had to drive to Jantzen Beach for it, which means something if you know where we live and also know where Jantzen Beach is, but since most of you probably don’t, let’s just say it was farther away than I expected him to go.  Anyway, the point is he went the extra mile and came back and installed it before going to work.  It’s probably the best gift he’s ever given me, aside from my children.  No, I’m just kidding.  It’s way better than the children.  I shouldn’t even joke about that stuff.

5.  Yesterday I was finally able to take off the steri-strips from my biopsy.  This was only a big deal because I haven’t been able to get them wet and thus haven’t been able to shower (or jump in a pool or a fountain) for the last five days.  Look, I bathed, okay?  I just couldn’t shower.  I discovered that I really, really like showers.  A lot.  A LOT.  Also, steri-strips + freaky-hot weather=serious itching.  So I was glad to be rid of that.  And since I know you’re all dying to have this information about me, the wound is healing just fine but still looks plenty gnarly.  It looks like somebody punched my left breast while they were wearing a sharp-edged ring, leaving a large greenish-yellow bruise–well, not technically large, but covering the whole side of my breast–plus a small black scab.  It’s not sexy.  Fortunately, they don’t need me back at the topless bar for another week or so.  Also, this theoretical topless bar that would hire me obviously has low standards.  So it’s all good.

6.  I think I’m all done.  I promised a quick update, after all.  And I’d better save something for tomorrow.