I woke up the next morning, feeling sad and worn out, which was weird. Normally I woke up from naked-girl-dreams feeling ready to face the day, kick ass and take names, but that morning I felt like I was dragging myself through my morning routine. I could not shake that crying girl’s face out of my mind. As I lethargically click the buttons on my keyboard at work, I tried to place her face. Had I seen her here at work? Perhaps I had seen her in the coffee-shop downstairs? I thought that maybe I had known her from somewhere… high-school? It was driving me nuts. Someone sobbed softly behind me.