There are days when you spend the evening frantically multitasking, trying to remember all of the six things you have running at the same time. Then you realise that you could just run another script in the background, so you do. Dash off a quick query to check a number, then realise that everything has ground to a halt, replication dead. Panic, and try to retrieve your data just in case a serious crash occurs two days before the auction closes.

Then you scan a list of hundreds of names, and you realise that you know what the important ones are, what to look for, what the combinations mean. You start closing the windows one by one, until nothing is left, except for something that will just have to run overnight. Hand off one last pack, walk out of the office, head down, until somewhere in between the lobby and the carpark, a tune steals into your head, and you start humming it. By the time you reach your car, the song is on your lips, soft, but clear enough only to yourself. Then the radio comes on, and that exact song is playing. A smile flits across, and soon fingers are tapping and the volume is up, and the road is speeding by far faster than it ought to.

Then you walk into your apartment to find that Volkswagen has sent you an electric guitar, and all that seems appropriate to do is laugh and go to bed.