I can tell that we are going to be fine

I am deep, deep, into the toffee crunches in the housekeeper's chocolate.
I am bracing my back for the way it'll feel to have sweat pouring from between my shoulders, pooling at my waist. Summer has come to mean air-conditioning. Summer has come to demand it.
I think this will be a good weekend. Whereas last weekend I was up to my elbows in the love and appreciation of and from my mom's side of the family (who have all turned out surprisingly well!, (earlier this week I wrote and wrote for hours to try to express this)), this weekend I will be thinking about wedding bands and invitation addresses, will be getting counseled (we'll pass), finally ending the Harry Potter adventure, seeing friends at a bar, friends at a restaurant (it's different), diving into early birthday celebrations for my lover.
It's different, and the heat may wilt all of this a little so that it drips off to the left, the way the sweat will down my back. It's ok, though, like melted chocolate is still ok.