December 12, 2002 | 3:19 PM

This has always been my biggest problem. I spread myself way too thin.

It sounded perfectly reasonable to me that I should work 50-60 hours a week, take two classes (one I�ve since dropped), go out three or four or five nights a week, do 600 calorie lemon cleanses with no solid food on and off for several months straight, walk three miles a day, drink voraciously, get five hours of sleep per night, and pop the occasional dose of speed to keep myself up and running so all my various projects could be completed.

It all came crashing down.

Now I am fucking confined to my house and I cannot talk. The last three days have been a parade of chest ex-rays, coughing fits, and pill popping.

And.

My boss just wrote me an email saying she is really concerned about my health and wants to have a meeting with me about �what we can do to insure my long term good constitution.�

Oh holy hell.

This is so embarrassing.

But I just don�t know how to live any other way. I mean I just want to go go go all the time (even though I�m a lazy sod too.) I don�t take care of myself so well. I try to, but there�s always so many lovely things going on or people to talk to or projects to dream up or movies to watch or records to listen to or brand new health kicks (or cocktails) to try.

Moderation moderation moderation. O where art thou?