I delivered a load of grapes to Shelbyville, TN, today and on the way back to civilization I saw a business's sign: B_________ Tack. Underneath this bit of vague information was a bit of clarification in large bold letters: Horse Equipment. And further down, there was, of course, a brief listing of the kinds of equipment this business will sell you for your horse.

No problem right?

Wrong!

All along US-231 before and after this sign there are many, many horse farms. There are stables, breeding farms, training farms, and just horses out in the pasture farms. This is horse country. So, yes, they need a tack shop.

But, although I am not a horse person, primarily because horses, while nice to look at out in the pasture, are evil-minded, spiteful creatures that have no qualms whatsoever about killing the person riding them in any manner they choose, I do know that a tack shop sells horsey stuff. You need horsey equipment and gear, you go to a tack shop.

Now, if I, a non-horse person knows what a tack shop sells, why does B_________ Tack have to advise its potential customers that it sells horse equipment?

Well, this is Tennessee and it's in the South, so maybe the horse people around B_________ Tack do not know what a tack shop sells. Maybe, just maybe, they might think B__________ Tack sells tacks. You know, those sharp pointy things you use to stick notes to a bulletin board. I've never actually come across a business that only sells tacks, but maybe the people at B___________ Tack have and they want to make certain the horsey people around them know that they can buy whatever tack items they need at B___________ Tack and that B_________ Tack does not sell tacks, although they might have a few on their bulletin board.

You just can't be too obvious these days because there are people around who just don't know what tack is when you're talking about horses. Unless, you're like me and don't like horses, then you're likely to know, except it doesn't matter for us because we're not looking for tack, so we won't be patronizing B__________ Tack.

And, I wouldn't go to a tack shop for tacks anyway. I go to office supply stores for my tacks.

(Still higher than a kite, but my boss "has experience with bipolar stuff" so he "understands" where I'm at. WTF is that all about? I just know I have to be extra careful and I get easily distracted. Yesterday, I stopped to take a break and pay a few bills online and three hours later I suddenly became aware that it was three hours later and I was almost finished with Chapter 18 of the Schticky story. Trust me, being on an extended high is not necessarily fun. Now, I know I need a mood stabilizer. What scares me the most is the potential for getting worse. I read an article online that said extended periods of hypomania can have a detrimental effect on the well-being of the sufferer. I don't need any detrimental effects, thank you very much. Well, got to go pickup some yogurt. Another night load. I hate night loads. Night loads aren't good when you're having trouble with sleep because you're suffering from hypomania. I don't want to throw in the towel, yet. I've got to think of something funny. Funny helps. God, I hate being like this. Now I know why people who've suffered from depression for a long time off themselves. This is not nice.)

is not happy!