Don't worry, gang.  Now I'm in an "up."  If all goes well (that is, if James's overtime in the law office is kept to a minimum this SATURDAY MORNING) we're going to visit the in-laws later today.  That means a car trip to upstate New York and then lots of overeating when we get there.  I don't usually look so foward to this kind of thing, but I've been dying to get out of the house!  The beautiful car-trip dance of drinking a 72-oz. Big Gulp, then needing to pee, then getting another 72-oz. Big Gulp, then needing to pee... oh, it's so much different than what I've been going through here.  Except for the 64 ounces of water that I threw up on the doctor's floor.  But whatever.  I'm talking DIET COKE here, the elixr of life. And if I had to throw up, chances are I could throw up out of the car window, just like James did after that very hard-drinking wedding that we went to a couple of months ago.  He graced Saginaw with his bile.  But we're not really supposed to talk about that.  It wasn't his finest moment.  But it was a rental car.So here I am, not pregnant, thinking that I could have a margarita every night, load up on caffeine, and eat a lot of crap every minute of the day.  That's because I don't have any organisms in my body to destroy.But, um, babies or no babies, I might have a few organisms that belong to me that I should think about treating better.  Maybe I should treat my body like a baby sanctuary all the time, for its own sake.I'll think about it.  While I'm drinking the Big Gulps.