Don't you guys have a life? I take a couple of stinkin' days to get some work done, open my reader and find SIXTY-FOUR posts to catch up on? I mean, seriously. Fricken A. I just went back to check the number and now it's 65. WTF. Do you people not sleep?
Ok, since it's obvious that I'm playing in the big leagues, where I clearly have no business, I quit. I quit trying to keep up with you. Especially you, Dooce. Here is the question: How can you be pregnant, run around after a 5 year old, keep a house, two dogs and a husband and still find time to write 31 posts in less than two weeks? There is something that is just not right about that. Someone in that house has got to be suffering. I'm not posting and everyonein my house suffers. You make me look bad. And YOU! India! 8 posts when you're supposed to be lying on a beach? I haven't found time to read them, so I don't know if you've been kidnapped and are blogging from a dark room in some basement or if you found some pay per word program and are laughing all the way to the bank.
So without mentioning any real names (Thys, Mud, KWR, Suburb - you know who you are) this is what I have to say: Knock it off. Go to work. Clean your house. Go out and get drunk. Have sex in the back yard. Step away from the computer.
Whew. I feel better.