How loudly can I sob? Loudly enough, to contend with the twins when they inhale for 30 seconds of deadly silence before beginning to howl. Oh, that breaks my heart. I can tell by the preceding silence, roughly how serious the problem is. They don't seem to cry like that much anymore - except of course the night we baby sat for them - another story - and I guess that too is part of growing up. Oh sad sad day. I can't get off the pity pot not with a shoe horn, not with a rope, it seems, not with a ladder. I need a life line... why am I so sad...

Everything has finally caught up with me and bitten my tail and made me feel sick and ill which are not the same - and I have so many things to do to survive. And do them quickly. And do everything right. It is so important that we don't blow anything at this point, or we will get flushed down the toilet.

Meanwhile the phone is ringing all day from people who want money. only my dearest friends and family are reading this, so I can write what is wrong. Otherwise I would be tiptoeing all over the truth and that won't help me lay down these troubles to rest. That is one good thing about a blog is that once you write something down you never go back and read it again, not really, and so it is done with. Kaput. A big non-issue. I have dumped a lot of issues into journals this way, because in the long run I have learned this one thing: worrying doesn't solve a single thing, and it also - I think - makes you sick. But the first part is for sure true, because my spiritual teacher said it and he was just a genius at that sort of thing.