It’s not in my nature to apologize. I rarely see a need for it, when I’m always in the right. But as I once again find myself spiralling down in to the second gaping pit of depression to tear open the streets of Crazy Town in recent months, I’ve simply found it far too difficult to type while clinging for dear life on the edge of the precipice. Frankly, I can barely maintain my tenuous grip on my sanity, never mind my keyboard. This, of course, means that I have sorely neglected my Mayoral duties of late, & worse, all of you that make up my support system. The added weight of that crushing guilt hasn’t helped my frantic attempts to keep my grip. For the most part, it’s the typical story…trying in vain to squeeze just a few more hours out of the day, eating over the kitchen sink whatever the fridge managed to instantly cough up, finding my way in to the shower when stink itself finally declares me unfit to claim it’s name, juggling 4 kids full time along with all the mess, noise & friends that come with them, & trying to wrap my head around my first “real” job in decades. Some of it, however, is my inability to find the words when I’m losing my sh**…they don’t always come easy, despite my mad skills.