It's still hot. The local weather people keep saying it's going to break. Today. Really today. Really, really today. And it's still hot. My computer is in a non-air conditioned room. There are fans in the hallway blowing the cool air past me. I have a little fan that blows right in my face...it sits on top of the CPU.

Today I had such plans. I was going to do only what needed to be done and then I was going to get started on the business of trying to get an agent for that novel I just finished. I've been reading blogs and books and researching. This is a very big task and I really have no idea how to go about it.

So what did I do today instead of that? I made three beds, walked three miles, did three loads of laundry, roasted a chicken, made pea salad, zucchini. I shopped at the grocery store for just a few items ($60 and only one bag!). I cleaned the front porch and watered my plants. I filled the bird bath and watered my herbs. I made my salad for lunch. And I made a loaf of rye bread. First time for rye. I would like to make a rueben sandwich for dinner tomorrow night and most rye bread has high fructose corn syrup in it. And I just wanted to try it myself.

I feel stuck. I clean and nothing gets cleaner. I work and nothing gets done. I worked seven years on that novel and now I'm just stymied as to what to do next. I'm probably just suffering from heat inertia. Or maybe I suffer from irrelevancy. I am of a certain age...no longer middle (Hey...if I double my age I'm dead!). I am invisible, irrelevant, and useless. At least that's how I feel a lot of the time. Especially when I'm at the grocery store. I don't think I've ever ignored people ever. My family knows that I talk to everyone. Now I don't.

Today there was a young mother in the produce area. She had her beautiful little girl in one of those carts that looks like a car. In a very loud voice she asked the little girl (somewhere around 2 years old) if she wanted an apple. Oh, yes! And the little girl started to climb out of the car/cart. The mother then told her not to get out of the car just tell her which apple she wanted. Do you want this one or this one? She kept asking over and over, pointing to one of each of two varieties of apples. Do you want this one or this one? Louder. Louder. No don't get out. Louder. All the little one wanted to do was pick the apple...like her mother said she could. And she didn't know why her mother kept saying no. No. Don't get out. No. This one or this one. No. No. No. In no time at all the mother was angry. The little girl was in tears. The aisle was blocked. Other kids were watching and getting worried. I wanted to say...just let her pick up the apple she wants. Let her get out of the car and pick the apple. But I didn't. I turned around and went to a different aisle. Kids were crying all over the store. Mothers were frazzled. I know how to be a mother and raise terrific people. I've done it. But no one wants to hear what I have to say. I'm a more than middle aged woman alone in the store looking at someone else's child. Invisible. Irrelevant.

Maybe tomorrow I'll indulge myself and stay home.