Broken, broken, three-nine

Anyone out there got their ears on? I had a cb once, and never found a way to successfully break into the chatter passing back and forth over the air waves. Minutes into owning the damn thing I felt foolish, shy, and more lonely than I had before turning it on.

I have been asked by a therapist of sorts to replace the phrase "I failed Jared." with something else. Maybe I will just tell her I was a trucker pushing eighty on my own private highway, chatting away on the cb radio with fellow truckers, ignoring the radio runt that kept interrupting our deep discussion on burger joints, speed traps, and strip clubs.