The grey tailed white cat sat purring on the kitchen mat when the 23-year-old writer for "Nobody Gives a Shit Magazine" brisk walked to the fridge and opened the bag of sliced bread. He took out a slice and thought first about the black coffee he was brewing and if it'd still work if he had it with the bread. Then he thought of the fruits he ate earlier, the 8 kilometers run over the past two days and the plantain chips next to the bag of bread which he hoped to reward himself with if at all he could manage to hack 1000 words before dawn. He put the bread back in the bag, wandered into the kitchen, accidentally washed the dishes in the sink and rushed back to his desk with renewed poise.