Yes, it's my brain and yes, I know it's melting

Ok its been like 100 degrees here, and when I say like 100, I mean its like 100 with a heat index of hell.

It started out hot and miserable during my set up. It was so hot and miserable my misery made the news . Seriously.

I am trying to remember to smile. Its hot and I am past cranky. I have to explain the concept of "beads" to every other person who comes in to my booth.

Bead: –noun

1.

a small, usually round object of glass, wood, stone, or the like with a hole through it, often strung

with others of its kind in necklaces, rosaries, etc.

Yes, Yes, I make all this. They are beads.

People at art fairs often don't even know why they are there themselves, unlike bead shows where you can presume they are there because of a knowledge of and an interest in beads. Yes I actually did have to explain to a woman "how it worked", not once, but about a dozen times. Each time she held a bead in her hand it was like a mystery. "So, how would this one work?"

"Ummmm pretty much like the last 6 you asked about. Its has a hole, you put a string through it"

God is punishing me for being mean.

I am ready to shout "NOTHEYARENOTFUCKINGPAINTEDROCKS" but I refrain. It is too hot to shout. I croak it under my breath as they walk out of the booth.

I am almost thankful that the crowds are small, as my patience is growing smaller with every rise of the thermometer. Parts of my anatomy are surprising me with their sweating proficiency. Who knew?

My charming assistant.

I take comfort knowing that there is only 2 more days left. I may have to hurt someone if I stay in this heat any longer.