Diary Of An All-Nighter

Its 2:30am on a Tuesday and I am the only one left in the office. There's no coffee and I'm almost out of food, down to half a bowl of noodles and tofu and vegies. I've got 2 000 words down on a 5-6 000 word paper, and at this stage it is easier to judge quantity than quality. I think it has stopped raining. Big moths have invaded the bathroom, and when I sat down on the toilet they made me laugh by flying out from under my big black taffeta skirt. There is nobody online to play with. This place smells funny, like damp academics and kitchen bins that haven't been emptied. Somebody has left two hot dog sausages in the dishrack. I don't know how long I have been here tonight. Time and activities are all beginning to blur. Either I will fall asleep now or I will write something brilliant. And either is fine with me.