Take it Like a Woman and Say Thank You When Its Done.

Okay. Now I remember why I gave up music.

I can't be trusted with it.

As soon as I let that creative demon out of it's cage, I can't control it. If inspiration calls, be it dark or light, night or day, civilized hour or uncivilized hour, I MUST ANSWER. What if I miss the chance to write the greatest song ever cause I was lazy and stayed in bed instead of jotting it down? Of course even if it wasn't going to the greatest song ever I would convince myself it was going to be when I can't remember it the next morning.

You see my double-edged dillemma.

And THAT, my faithful friends, is why it's 1:05AM and I am up writing this for all of you to see bright and early Monday morning: My "fickle friend" has chosen NOW of all times to smack me with a stroke of song-writing genius that has no sign of ebbing or slowing. NOW.

So much for "staying on schedule". (Trust me, the whole "sleeping at night" and "waking in the morning" thing is a relatively new discipline for me.)

AND, to top it all off, I have a TEMUR PEDIC CELEBRITY BED, people! NOT TO MENTION the warm body laying patiently in it waiting for me (and if you don't know my husband, you need to trust me that it's not just any old body...it is the hottest body of all mankind)!!! Its just a travesty.

All this ranting to say...

Craptrash.

It's going to be a long road to the finish line folks.

Cause, apparantly, music is not what I do--it's what does me.

And all I can do is exactly what the title says...