UPDATE:

Since I have received 2 e-mails, a phone call, and an angry (perhaps rightfully so) anonymous post from someone who apparently knows me (by the way, if you are who I think you are - you didn't get the phone message?) I have re-thought my stance on the fact that the activity on my blog is sinking faster than Tommy Lasorda's libido. I will press on due to increasing pressure. I will only say this to all the people who have hollered at me in the past few days: you will be personally held responsible for my cocaine habit, as well as the ensuing bills from the various treatment programs I'll be in (on the upside, I will get to hang with Lindsey Lohan and Owen Wilson).

By the way, did I mention that my refrigerator caught fire last night? Can't I get at least one night of peace please?

What am I,
F#ck*ng Job from the Bible?

When do the locusts come? Will I have to make a midnight run to True Value for the bug bombs? gas masks? how about a flamethrower? I'm seriously thinking about calling The Wolf from Pulp Fiction to help me sort this out.

I haven't called my parents in over a week, I haven't talked to my buddy Voss on our birthday plans, even though I told him we'd talk on Sunday. It took me 5 days to cancel an insurance policy that cancelled itself. Jess and I had to share one car for a week, then I promptly had to drop $700 to get the other car out of the graveyard. I have to have some time to at least notify people of what's up, but I'm on more CPR jobs than Gage and Desoto from Emergency 51. If my refrigerator isn't on fire, than I'm unloading appliances in my basement, finding out which cardboard box has my toothbrush, bugging my old landlord for my deposit back (oh yeah, I'll have to make an appointment with my lawyer too), entertaining out-of-town friends, watching Isaac while Jessica hangs one of the FIVE art shows she's had since we moved, working on the ROOF LEAK, unclogging the kitchen sink, updating a web design for a freelance client. interviewing for A BIG design agency, finding a refrigerator, finding a bed for Isaac, figuring out where the gas leak is coming from, ARRRRRRGGGHHH.

Seriously, I know I have to push all these things back and call people, BUT MY REFRIGERATOR IS ON FIRE. How ridiculous is this situation? I will now light myself on fire and jump out the window.