Play it loud enough, keeps the demons at bay.

For those of you who need to know: I remain a nutcase.

I've had too much time to myself driving this week. I can't yet be trusted to be left alone with my own thoughts, and since this trip was only a few minutes shy of an hour as opposed to the four-hour treck from Marshall yesterday, I left my Ipod (Zeke!) at home. Every other song on the radio was a "Shydes Song," which still makes me lose it, or a country love song about booze and feeling up women. I scanned and scanned growing more and more frustrated and sick and at the last moment on the verge of a major break down (which, by the way, I decided to call someone so I wasn't alone and could be given some perspective, but found I had also accidentally left my phone, Petey!, at home). I was hot flashing, angry, and desperate. Ok. What. can. I. do. Do I have a CD player with me? -checks cubby- No. -checks around on the floor and inbetween the seats- Aha!

I found (get this) young Amy Grant's "The Collection" cassette tape from like freaking before my brother was even born (!) and popped it in as my last resort. Cheesy 80s drum beats...jazzy keyboard do-dads...hilarious.

But it did the trick.

Where do you hide your heart?

Leave your cares behind you.

Love's coming back.

Emmanuel.

I have decided.

In a little while.

Sing your praise to the Lord.