And then there's my other look. Now, even though it looks like I'm in a severe state of depression and/or battling a deadly bout of the flu, these are the best days. These are the days when the words flow out of me like a river full of wild currents. My fingers fly across the keyboard, capturing them before they are forgotten in the black holes of my brain. These are the days that I climb into the world I've created only coming out to retrieve my kids from school. 

On those days, even as I drive, I'm drunk with words, a notebook next to me as I jot down the flow of story, unstoppable.  I am so deep in oblivion, that only a mighty tropical storm, ( a common occurrence) can knock me out of my reverie, and even then, by the time I notice, it's too late. 

The school car-line rule book, carved from stone-martial law, commands us to get out of our cars on rainy days and enter the school to pick up our kids. It is only when I see other dutiful parents in things like shoes and pants, scurrying across the parking lot, all proper day wear, do I look down at my naked feet, French poodle jammie pants and my Bruce concert t-shirt that proclaims across the chest, "Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims and strap your hands across my engines", and mutter, "Uh-Oh." 

It's not the worst thing I will ever do to my kids. 

At least I'm wearing a bra. 

They should be on their knees, thanking the Heavens above for that. 

I will speak more of my novel in the next few days. Big moments are up ahead, I can feel them, deep down in my writer's soul. Whether they are delightful or dismal, only the Lord above and my beloved dad next to him, know. But, I can't wait any longer. The days, the years, have slipped by while I was looking the other way. 

On Your Mark, Get Set, Go.

Listen to Me, Dammit! Download This: Today, it's "Get What You Give" by the New Radicals. An oldie, but still a rockin' goodie. This can only be listened to at a high volume, usually in the car with the windows up. The title says it all for me. Also, the lyrics at the end are eerily appropriate for these days. After listing the troubles of the times, the song proclaims, "Come Around, we'll kick your ass in."  Now, that's the outlook we need to have. We're Americans. Let's stomp all this bad news into the ground, until its defeated, never to mess with us, again. That's how we roll.