You were fried after days of staring at a blinking cursor, while I was running on way too many energy drinks. That's when I took over typing duties. I traded you my notes for your laptop and got to work transcribing your verbal stream of consciousness into something readable. The room was silent except for the rhythmic clacking of the keys - they had this super satisfying creamy sound, if that makes sense. We basically traded off like that through the night, you dictating while I manned the keyboard, pausing only to refuel on crappy dorm coffee. When that final period hit the page at 6AM, we both nearly passed out from relief. But hearing that creamy keyboard clack one last time made all the caffeine jitters worth it.