Hoo boy, messed myself up something fierce lately. Inadvertantly pretty much fasting for two days, running on little or no sleep, giving myself way too much time to brood (unfortunately, I probably don't pull it off as well as David Boreanaz), and then sitting in an office being microwaved by the upstairs heat treatment center, while the soft rock station playing on the radio in the woman's desk in front of me played every love or lost-love song one could think of, all day long. I mean, I'd hear another song come on, and be like damn, I am not listening to that station again if I can help it. Well, as a famous judoka once said, get knocked down seven times, get up eight. Or maybe that was more of a Chumba Wumba thing. To go even further down cliche road, time to climb back up on the horse and get my confidence back.