Smack dab right in the middle of quite possibly one of the top five worst weeks of my life, all was not well in Robertcatland. The weather has sucked, class sucks, and I just heard Lindsay Lohan may have gotten a breast reduction. While sitting in class on the morning of Hump-day, I was actually thinking of the best ways to kill myself. (Shooting myself in the head while jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge with cement blocks tied to my ankles is what I came up with.)

Returning from my grueling day of four straight classes (which I hear is actually normal for a lot of people), I was ready to pass out and wake up somewhere south of Neverland. I noticed the mailman had just stopped by so I checked to see if my monthly Viagra shipment had come in. No such luck. Sorry Steve, you’ll have to wait a few more days for the Rob-train.

Leafing through the envelopes, I ran across bill, bill, court summons, bill, child support payment, bill, and FINALLY, there it was…

Staring right back at me was an envelope that read: “Studio Fan Mail, First Class, Do not Bend.” (My name was on it, and although it was addressed to Athens, Georgia, I was pretty sure it was meant for me.) Could it BE? Could it actually BE? Yes, yes it was. The autographed photo of Tiffani Thiessen that I sent off for back in November, absolutely free. (note the heart on the right hip – she definitely digs me)

Just when I thought the world had turned its back on me, I get a sign from God that everything will be OK. If you can’t count on your girlfriend to pick you up when you’re down, then who can you count on? Thanks Tiff. Love ya.