I'm dangerously close to falling in a funk.
I'd like to blame it on the fleas.
And that *is* part of it.
+ constant itching
+ little biting insects all over my floor and bedding
So my apartment is coated with a layer of poison form the repeated bombing, I have no pets, yet the fleas continue to thrive. Was this plague mentioned in the bible anywhere?
Perhaps my years of worshipping a golden calf have finally caught up to me.
But it's more than just feeling sticky and uncomfortable all the time.
I'm also a little lost.
I quit CollegeClub in May to pursue fame and fortune…but I seem to have missed on both counts.
With the exception of my radio show, I wonder if I've made much progress towards my dreams at all?
I haven't written a great Tale for a while.
Haven't launched any brilliant redesigns.
Haven't worked on that screenplay.
I *was* hitting the gym pretty regularly.
My sex life has had a boost.
And I did help launch citizenX.com
Maybe that's enough.
But right now, it doesn't feel like it.
September 13, 2000