One of these Mondays, I am going to wake up dead.  I don't know how I don't wind up killing myself with all the crap I do to my body on the weekends.  And every week starts out the same, usually with me complaining about how crappy I feel and how I don't plan on doing anything next weekend.  Then I get on the computer and write a standard update to the website about how hungover I am.  Hmm, I wonder why no one reads this website again?  Anyway, I put in about 70 hours at work last week so I guess I can rationalize a little bit of partying here and there.  At least that's what I tell myself.