My friend just wrote to me: "I'm so strapped for time for the next four weeks. I have to learn math, relearn some Spanish, work a job, and deal with a personal trainer."

I laughed out loud.

And then I stopped and thought to myself, "Wow, I balance so much shit and I deal with it so fucking well." Sure, I have the major break-down every now and then, but I keep those to myself. Or, I try to. Diana's in the room 24/7 though, so it's hard to have them without her seeing them.

Seriously, when I look at my calendar, every single day has three or more things written on it. Every. Single. Day. And yet I still manage to get at most five hours of sleep a night, sometimes seven on weekends.

So, um, sorry Hunter, but I do not feel for you when you say you're busy. You're not busy. You're on vacation compared to me.

And dude. "The next four weeks"? I'm going to be taking at least 15 hours every semester until the summer of 2009, and even then I'm going to try for an internship with the CIA that summer.

Strapped for time. Pshaw.

I laugh at your poor time management. I manage time like the fucking president of the United States.

I wonder how many break downs he has?