I'd been feeling blue for a few weeks and thought I might need a little tune-up from the psychologist who used to hypnotize me to be cheerful in the bad old cancer days. But on July 5 I had my annual checkup with my high-risk gyno. Her nurse asked me, "So how did you spend the Fourth?" and I told her I'd walked the High Line with a friend, then gone with her and Other to the Met to see the Alexander McQueen show and another exhibit, Room with a View, and then we'd run into neighbors who invited us to watch the fireworks from their roof, so we'd done that. And by the time I finished recounting how I spent the Fourth I was feeling pretty cheerful. And then the doctor came in and asked how I'd spent the Fourth, and I told her all over again. And by the time she'd finished all the nasty stuff she has to do, I had mentally canceled the appointment I'd been thinking ofmaking with my old shrink. And I've been reasonably cheerful ever since.