Coffee is a scam, I'm pretty convinced now. Now wonder why I've adopted it as a comfort beverage, often in the hours preceding sleep. Don't jump on me, "but you're talking about milk coffee, it doesn't count" coz I've tried the black one as well (from time to time, with great hope), and besides causing facial distortion - that resembles the look when one is trying to ward off an Indian beggar, - it didn't help with the sleep. Its coffee that I had trying to fend off a sleepy morning, which then escalated into total sleep (on the desk itself) for almost an hour. Productivity must be sneering at me from some corner right now.
The day didn't begin so bad as I entered the complex really early - early enough to justify my continued possession of the sole set of office keys. No, really, past few days of past coupla weeks, my routine resonated with Dylan Moran's (see: Black Books S1E02): "Half ten! I've never been up at half ten. What happens?" - I, too, know that nothing happens. Nobody does anything productive, this time is filled with mundane stuff.
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