From my fourth story window I watch as people crawl along the pavement. They sway at the crosswalk before red hand melts and they slide before the waiting cars. Last weekend I'd called my super and asked him, politely (it was May after all) to turn on the heat just a squidge. Now my cat refuses to frolic and my head is a shaggy watermelon. My cactus is melting. My glass of water is sweating. Yesterday I put on shorts for the first time yesterday and found to my amazement that wintering in cold, dark closets shrinks fabric. Today I went to buy new shorts and found to my amazement that wintering clothing designers shrink waist sizes. I guess I have to get out more.

But I will get out more! Armed with sunscreen, perfectly sized shorts, and bangs that cover my eyes I will be an impenetrable fortress to melanoma and sunstroke. Activated by the heat, my belly will shrink and my calves will swell. My bottom will grow firm and shapely, just like it was when the leaves fell. Spring has finally sprung to summer.