Ok, ok, I'm trying to remain calm...I really am. Sure, I am all jacked up on caffeine because I'm attempting to put together a proposal for a freelance project on Alabama trivia. And, sure, it brings me down every time a read a little more about Alabama and realize that the stuff we actually have going for us tends to fall in the category of either football feats or neat Native Americans that did impressive things before we drove them out of the state. I also don't necessarily like knowing that Alabama's official festival (do we really require an official festival anyway?) is the Renaissance Faire in Florence, Alabama where the people of Florence, Alabama actually pretend to pay homage to their supposed namesake, Florence, Italy, by dressing in costume, eating meat on sticks, and adding that superfluous "e" to the end of "fair." But, none of that is the point. The point is that I'm trying to remain calm. I'm sitting in the coffee house, I have my laptop in front of me, and I only have a couple of pages left to go before I get to take my cookie break. All should be well. However, then I realized that there is actually a massage chair in said coffeehouse and guy in massage chair has been sitting there way too long to just be taking care of an aching back. In fact, every so often the floor beneath my chair shakes a bit. I haven't heard moaning yet, but I'm concerned. I would switch seats, but my spot is the only one near an outlet, and someone decided it would be a good idea to waste her battery pack making mixed cds of sad songs last night after she watched "Terms of Endearment" and ate a quart of orange sherbert, rather than saving the life of her battery for dire situations such as this one. Deep breaths, deep breaths...