9:20 a.m. I've already billed a full nine-hour day, and the rest of my team is just strolling in to work. It was one of those nights. One of those nights when 2:30 rolls around and you resign yourself to the fact that you will be watching the sun rise from your office window. One of those nights when you want to sleep so bad your stomach hurts. One of those nights when you try to remember what you wanted to be when you grew up, and all you know for sure is that this isn't it.

When I was in high school I loved coffee. I used to drink it every day and night. I used to hang out with friends at coffee shops, and pound espressos until they closed. I loved the nutty smell of a brewing pot; I loved the bitter crunch of whole roasted beans; I loved the ambrosial confluence of coffee and steamed milk. Then I got to college.

I grew up with parents who needed two cups of coffee to get out the door in the morning; who suffered migraines if you gave them decaf. I knew I was going to have some late nights in college; probably a few all-nighters. And I decided I wasn't going to use caffeine to get me through it. My dad, like all doctors, got through medical school on a steady diet of caffeine, and he's never recovered. I've seen addiction, and it's ugly, and I don't want any part of it. I gave up coffee. Every once in a while I have a cup of decaf, just for the memories. But I don't do caffeine any more. Once or twice I've thoughtlessly downed a cup of the real stuff, and my jaw starts to clench, my skin crawls, I fidget uncontrollably, and I lose a night of sleep. I've become caffeine-intolerant.

The coffee in my office is not great, but it's free. It pretty much has to be in an office like this one; the place is swarming with addicts. Last night, as the cleaning crew packed up and I realized I was alone with my work until sun-up, I started jonesing for joe. I resisted, and six tall glasses of ice water later, I'm still awake with the sun.

I have to wait around for a few documents, and then I'm going home for a desperately-needed nap. There's a tin of fancy cocoa in my pantry that Lisa's mom gave me for Christmas. I think I'll brew myself a cup before I settle in. I believe I've earned it.