<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/erywPdFfORE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe> Michael wanted to bang his head on the table, but it wobbled and he was worried the half-full coffee cup would spill all over the pages he'd scattered across the two-seater table. The barista behind the counter glanced at him. His grimace of rage probably was making her worry about the table and other customers. Michael saw her glance at him, and he glared back before going up to order another latte. As he sat back down at the table, Michael tried to figure out why he'd hit a wall on the revisions for this paper. It wasn't like he'd been trying to mire himself into a hole. He rubbed his temples. He'd already been there for two hours, staring at the draft. He would probably run out of things to cross out soon, too. Michael sighed and took another sip of his latte.