Mission Possible

Legs rest on the ottoman while hands click at a keyboard.  Familiar glow of electronic, light emitting diode-backlit screens comprise the complete lighting arrangement for the room.  A voice from the TV describes food of various types.  Wet-headed, warm, grogginess is barely cogent enough to realize this needs to be completed soon, or sleep will prevail.

Last night, the mission was a failure.  In the AM, a little blank screen greeted upon unlocking.  Nothing had been typed.

Tonight, things are looking more optimistic.  Things are looking good.  As a matter of fact, it's already done.