Life as a traveling saleswoman is not my idea of what I planned do with 60 years of living and experience. How did I get to this? you ask. It seemed simple at the time but as too often is the case I jump in without testing the water. Not that testing was a possibility in this situation, nobody knew what this job would be like, we all (8) took it on faith that it would work out. And it does work out when it isn't 40C. I deflate in the heat, can't put together enough energy to move across a room, never mind across two counties. Should have known this of course, but as summer is so very short, I have a tendency to forget from year to year what is to be endured. The last three summers I've worked in an air conditioned cave (aka office without windows). Winter I never forget.

So there we are driving around, calling on employers and selling a project to them. Please sign this form, sir, madam and you will be listed in our database. All for a good cause, to support and encourage the young, be good corperate citizens and leaders in your community. What's not to like?

It's just me, having to use extrovert energy when I'm a dyed in the wool introvert. Can manage extro on occasion for brief bits of time, rather like the fight or flight response I suppose. But adrenalin is no longer available to this 60 year old, so steroids fill the gap and any extra energy takes a great deal of doing and sometimes more drugs besides. Ain't medical science wonderful? As long as I take little white pills every morning I don't much miss the adrenalin--except in unusual circumstances like having to pretend I'm okay with doing extrovert. I mean having to approach people I don't know and sell them a project or idea; whew now that's a stretch. Me, just give me a bag of fleece to spin or some sock yarn and 5 pointy sticks and I'm a happy camper. Just don't make me talk when I don't feel like it (as in anytime before 1pm). And heavens above, give me time, time, time to write that damn book that's chasing my butt.