THAT’S RIGHT. Strap on those carpal tunnel braces and crack open that Red Bull, because you know what time it is: TIME TO WORK.
Lesser mortals would just go to bed, but NOT YOU. You are a GOD DAMN PRODUCTIVITY NINJA. If that little paper clip from Microsoft Word could fist bump you, IT WOULD.
Your decision to leave the party early was met with a serene, understanding nod from your hostess. That poor, sweet goddess of hospitality. You will both be up all night. Only one of you will deal with other people’s vomit.
Yes. IT IS TIME. Fueled by passion, mastery, and the very real threat of being kicked off of this project, you will compose pages and pages of flawless prose before the first birds of morning sing.
The list of tasks competing for your attention literally covers three A4 pages, single spaced. PAY IT NO HEED. Like the millions of evil cats that lurk within the internet, its only goal is to derail your efforts.
(Your partners’) brilliant findings must become a compelling argument that rests like a verbal grapevine on a trellis of in-text citations. As the only native English speaker in the group, the weeding and pruning of this glorious vine falls upon you. This is not coincidence. IT IS DESTINY.
You are IN THE ZONE. As the final track of Bonobo’s “Black Sands” fades out, it is official: Times New Roman is substantially more professional than Arial. Double spacing has been deemed unnecessary. This is not high school science. This is GRADUATE SCHOOL science.
After two hours of staggering mental activity, a FULL PAGE (including footnotes and citations) of BRILLIANT SCIENTIFIC WRITING has emerged.
Because you are an open minded thinker willing to embrace many possibilities, you revisit your harsh, swift decision about double spacing. DOUBLE SPACING IS INDEED NECESSARY.
No one can appreciate your ADVERB WIZARDRY if the damn paper is illegible.
All machines require fuel, and you are NO EXCEPTION. Deep within your backpack, that turtle shell of academic piety, lies a tiny, crinkly bag of Haribo’s latest confection: sparkly Orangina-Cola winegum marshmallow licorice bears. The bears sacrifice themselves to the GREATER GOOD OF SCIENCE. Your hands and eyeballs tingle.
Alas, you have reached a treacherous crossroad. Your BRILLIANT PAGE and the preceding chapter are STYLISTICALLY INCONSISTENT. You have been called many things by friends and foes, near and far, but STYLISTICALLY INCONSISTENT is NOT ONE OF THEM.
For the next hour, you will add and remove commas with the SWIFTNESS OF A FENCER.
Suddenly, the Brooklyn Nine-Nine theme song screams at you out of nowhere. WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE? (It is yesterday’s cell phone alarm.)
You hoist your head up, momentarily disoriented by your crusty eyes and fuzzy teeth. Your hand flies up to your cheek. It is indented with perfect, tiny squares.
HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? You look at the screen.
36 pages of the letter N.
No surprise. Even your FACE is productive.