Let me give you a quick tour of my modern life. I started having children at the age or 24 and stopped at the age of 34. I'm now 35. I have four children who belong to three different mothers. That's three sons and a step daughter for those of you who are trying to keep track. All three mothers have stong personalities and 2 out of 3 of them are mad at me at any given time. All 3 can't stand each other for various reasons which all change over time. I am now not living with any of these women. The last one and I split up in September. The oldest son lives in Studio City, the middle son lives in Culver City, and the baby lives in Downey with the daughter. I live in central Los Angeles. I work a full time job from 9-6 Monday through Friday. Every morning I go and pick up the middle son from his mother's house to take him to school because she can't get him there on time. The school is 10 blocks away from her. Oh, and I should aslo mention that this son is in special education and has been diagnosed slightly mentaly retarded. From Thursday to Sunday I have him by myself. The oldest son I see Friday to Sunday. I pick up the middle son in Culver City first and then drive to Studio City to pick up the oldest son and then drive back to my apartment in LA. On Saturday we get up and go to Downey so that I can see my baby son and my daughter. Then we go home and repeat Saturday on Sunday until I have to then drive everyone back to their mother's house Sunday evening. Sunday night I teach my marital arts class, which thankfully is near my hosue in LA. I also teach the same class on Monday and Wednesday nights. This leaves me with only Tuesday to have anytime to myself. Usually by Tuesday I am so run down that I wind up just staying home alone. Shoud I start caring about something important on a Tuesday, like paying my bills or children suffering in Iraq, my brain will go into meltdown. Upon meltdown my brain will reset itself back to its defaults.