Come half three, I'm sat there with text editor open, FTPing the files like mad to the target site to get everything just right, on the verge of progasm. Four, I'm still on it. So close to a progasm that it hurts. But then, I find my fingers slipping. My mind is leaving my body behind to pay up the cheques it has been writing. I reluctantly call it a night and crawl into bed with the hacker equivalent of blue balls. Six thirty in the morning I'm still thinking on the benefits of persistant versus standard database connections in a small-scale single-user app. I pass out around seven.
My alarm is set for ten, that I can be alive-looking when I go see the guy at the dole. I spent that time this morning mainlining strong, sweet coffee. Anything for the sugar and caffeine pitch. I've been working this afternoon on the same program, and now, when I can get online to test the bastard thing my body feels like it's giving out. The price for the caffeine and energy earlier is being paid now.
Maybe another cup of coffee... yes.