The Barista who didn't like Coffee

Robin without a Batman

caffeine: noun

/kahfi:n/'

a nitrogenous organic compoud found especially in tea and coffee plants and is a pronounced stimulant of the central nervous system.

eg: "Man, I'm so hyped up on caffeine I could sit through a thirty hour lecture."

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I couldn't sleep a wink. The reasons being numerous and each of them very plausible indeed.

It could be because Paulo decided he wanted to spoon and kept kneading my back with his paws trying to get my to put my arm around him. And when I did, he'd just place his face right in front of mine so every time he breathed out I'd get a breath of hot dog air (A/N: lol hot dog) blown straight into my face. So it was either asphyxiate on beef flavoured carbon dioxide, or wind up with paw shaped indents on my back.

It could also be because the rain beat relentlessly against my window, and my thin curtains did little to block out the bright flashes of lightning. Every time the thunder made my window panes rattle, my hair stood up on end.

Another reason was the music. And the hoots of laughter. And the whoops and mundane chants of 'chug chug chug chug' emanating from the unholy house across the corridor from mine.No matter how hard I tried to block it out, I couldn't ; the music was so loud I could feel my bedstead vibrate. I looked over at my dog, who, the heavy sleeper he was, was peacefully passed out next to me. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the music stopped, resulting in a collective 'ohhhhh'. I sat up, listening earnestly. I heard a muffled apology.

"Sorry guys, the power went down because of the rain."

The guests next door didn't sound too happy but I was. I lay back down and shut my eyes, inhaling slowly. Finally, some peace and-

"It's okay guys, I have a back-up generator!"

My eyes shot open as loud cheers and 'hell yeah' s' followed. This was just not my night.

I decided to give up on a restful night when the music came back on. I got out of bed, and as I did Paulo rolled to a stop on my side. Well, I guess I was glad he was getting a good night's sleep. Slipping on my slippers, I dug inside my cabinet in the darkness. Montgomery might have a back-up generator, but I had my trusty LED flashlight. I switched it on and guided myself to the kitchen. I slathered copious amounts of my peanut butter and nutella mix onto a slice of bread, and placed another slice neatly on top. Comfort food at it's finest.

I took my sandwich in one hand and navigated through a poorly lit path to my couch. Sitting down, I bit into it and a bit of the annoyance caused by the racket in 6-A dissipated. My calorie-rich spread mix was working it's magic again.

Now feeling slightly better, I thought about what Brenda had said. 'My dream's finally coming true.' What about my dream? I came to this city to become a best selling author, have millions of people lining up in stores to read something I'd created. So far the closest I'd gotten to a literary career was writing made up reviews to put in the 'customer' suggestion box at the Readdit library because my boss told me to. I wasn't anywhere closer to my dream now than I had been a year ago.

Maybe I should just resign myself to a future in Readdit. I could get promoted to assistant librarian, and then when I'm, like, thirty I might become the head librarian, and finally have a reason to wear corduroy trousers and those god awful cardigans.