I have an hour a few times a week where I essentially sit. My presence is required as parent, but most of the other grown-ups sit and gossip or read. My participation is not expected; I simply sit, sometimes reading, sometimes watching.
I would like to use this relatively useless hour to write or at least re-write but the humidity of the current natatorium prevents the safe use of my laptop. In the relatively soon future I might do so, when the weather outside changes the practice venue. But for today I’ve sat, frustrated by the relative inability to be productive, musing on the unfolded laundry, work, and the uselessness of playing Chuzzle.
Someday, I think, I’ll type happily away on a full size keyboard as the sun shines down and the calls of the coaches mix with the energetic splashes and loud cacophony of chattering swimming moms.
I am invisible, except what I write.