Overkill

Just like the song. Or maybe just over-stimulation. Either way, it's entirely inappropriate to be blogging at this hour. But impropriety is no match for insomnia, and thus here I am.

Maybe it was the panel discussion on Iraq I had to attend earlier. I found it quite stimulating. Stimulating in the sense that it required more self control than normal to keep myself from leaping across the table and throttling two of the panelists. I don't want to get into it, but suffice it to say that the idea that there is any sort of non-biased media out there is simply laughable -- and those that profess to be such while at the same time pounding your fist into the table and shouting 'disaster' earn nothing but my scorn and disdain.

Or maybe it was the nail-biting basketball games on late tonight. It's probably best that Georgia isn't in the tournament, because then I'd be even more of a wreck. It's bad enough getting worked up over keeping my bracket alive. (Which, for the record, is probably doing better than yours. That's right. I said it. In the immortal words of Stu@rt Sco++ -- booyah.) Now that I've said that, it would be only fitting for UNC, Florida, Oregon and Georgetown all to lose tomorrow. But, as I often do, I digress.

Most likely what is keeping me up are things that I can't, or at least shouldn't, mention just yet -- lest I jinx myself. It would appear that people are -- against conventional wisdom, mind you -- beginning to take me seriously. And against my better judgment, I'm letting them. It's an all-around horrifying experience. Here's hoping they don't find out I'm just winging it.

And here's hoping I don't regret working with sharp objects on four hours of sleep.