By Robin Kaye I drive a lot. Yesterday I put over two hundred miles on my car, and when I drive, I listen to my iPod. I have every piece of music I own on there, and I can’t stand the thought of leaving home without it. It’d be like not having a book or my Kindle in my purse. What would I read while standing in a checkout line or while waiting for one of my three kids? What would I do? It would be a huge waste of time, and I despise wasting time. Last night, I got into my car after driving my daughter to her school (an hour and a half away) and spending the day at my favorite Starbucks. Driving through the deserted parking lot, I pressed the button on my iPod and scrolled through the genres to writing—I was all set to find the perfect RWA workshop to listen to on the drive home. I found one on time management, selected it, and heard the lovely voice of the moderator—and then, it died. I checked the audio jack. It was secure. I pressed the button again. Nothing. Yeah, we’re talking hear...
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