Coffee on a stressed lonely night

Coffee has stopped being a joy and turned into a grinding medicine-like necessity. A strong doze of it every half hour. My window is open to the cold night to stop me drifting off to sleep and loud blaring lyrics blast from my computer to maintain some sense that this might be fun.

The deadline fast approaching - and 2000 words still to write before morning. But the end is in sight and I am promising myself a schedule and a work routine as soon as I am finished with this frantic attempt at "understanding the polemics of political language through a feminist framework" ..