There's an invisible current that runs through every office building in Midtown Manhattan that surges every weekday from around 3 in the afternoon until 5 or so. If you populate a cubicle or desk it pulls you in its undertow toward the silent hazy depths of torpor. You are then a barely animated corpse unable to initiate any activity and are a passive receptor for all the particles of the workday floating around you. Coffee then becomes a life-saving necessity. A first-aid kit. If the current is particularly strong and you get caught unaware it will pull you right under and your chin will drop as your eyelids descend. If it's really bad you can slip into unconsciousness and when you come to, the incongruousness of being paid to dream will strike you as a briefly irresolvable riddle for a split second as you forget where you are. Then as the day slides to its conclusion the anticipation of being free surges through you and carries you through the rest of the way...