Too many irons in the fire, too many pots on the stove, too many hands kneading the dough. Hands reaching out, hands pulling me here, tugging me there, unable to go forward, unable to go backward, I stand and spin around and around. I can do just so much. I can be in just so many places at one time, and frankly, I do not want to do that, or that and I do not want to go there, be there. I don't suppose one of your many options being flung my way is to leave me the fuck alone, is it? You have problems? Well, I hate to inform you but so does she, he and it. And do you want to know what else, so do I. I would love to pull the magic wand out sprinkle you with fairy dust and make the rain clouds over your head disappear today, but I can't, I'm not God! If I was, do you think I would be living in this fucking closet? Can't you understand, I can not fix your problem, stop calling, the damn ringing of the phone is driving me insane. Don't you get the message by now? I'm not answering it! Today is my day off and I have a date with Stephen, Jr. That is, if you will stop interrupting me with the damn ringing of that phone.