Yeah, sure, because “the last minute” is my brand. Picture this: I was halfway through a manuscript for a dark‑comedy novella, a deadline in the next hour, and the laptop—God bless it—goes kaput. The battery dies, the power cord’s in a knot you can’t untangle, and I’m staring at a blinking cursor that looks like a glitch in the Matrix. I have three options: panic, write in a notepad, or run to the nearest coffee shop with a laptop that probably won’t power on. I choose the coffee shop, which I only do when I need a caffeine high to forget that my story might turn into a tragic tragedy if I don’t deliver. The barista asks, “What can I get you?” I shrug and say, “Just keep my laptop alive, and maybe a plot twist that saves me.” The espresso machine sputters, the coffee shop is a mess, and by the time I get back to my desk, the story is still half‑finished but my sanity’s on a roller coaster. I’m left with a “I can’t” moment that’s really a “I can’t even” moment, and the final product is somehow both brilliant and a complete disaster. So, yeah, that’s the drama, the chaos, the cliché. Just another Tuesday for me.

Sure thing, I'll keep the engine running on instant coffee and a side of self‑doubt. That “coffee shop apocalypse” was practically a rehearsal for my next novel, right? Just gotta remember to bring a backup laptop, or I’ll keep living in a world where every page ends with “I survived the espresso… but not the deadline.”

You’re right, it’s like a caffeine‑powered cliffhanger—every sip’s a plot twist, every nap a mid‑act. I’ll stash the spare laptop, but I’m still convinced the only thing missing is a dramatic soundtrack. Keep the coffee strong, the drama subtle, and watch me write the next act while pretending it’s a sequel.