We older ladies spend a lot of our lives in self-conscious misery, worrying about what others think. Change out of that skirt with the stain, put on your eye liner, wear your decent shoes instead of those ratty old sneakers, comb your hair. As I get older, I realize how foolish that is. Nobody cares. To them, we are not even a blip on their radar. We are the person standing in front of the freezer at the supermarket when they want ice cream, the person in front of or behind them in line, the car in the next lane going exactly the speed limit when they want to pull into our lane before the light. We have no status or recognition in their lives. We might happen to have a brief encounter, “Oh, I’m sorry; was I in your way?” “No, no, it’s fine.” If asked that evening to describe us: “Um, well, I think she had on flowered pants,” or, “She had white hair.” (That might not even be true any longer because virtually everyone has white hair it seems. At least in Florida.)

Anyway, anyway, stop worrying about what people think of you. They don’t. Anymore than you think of them. We are insignificant in their lives. That’s not a good thing. Nor is it a bad one. It just is.

If you want to wear your good shoes and draw black lines around your eyes, go ahead. But do it for yourself. Because no one else will notice.

Still building, excuse me, customizing my blog. I’ve seen some I like from other writers, and I’m hoping to eventually make a nice one for other writers and readers to contribute thoughts to as I, hopefully, add mine. I have a logo now, provided by my friend and writing buddy, WM, and as time allows, I’ll add words and images. Stay tuned.