The Meeting I wait, knuckles steepled in mockery of the impending defeat that I might, just might, have to face today. It's a Monday, and my friend Chris and I have been up all night. We've juggled facts, formulated our arguments , and rehearsed our grievances. What we want is success, and we know that it won't come easy. I walk outside, and realize that the birds are chirping. This will be my first all-nighter of my college career, and my green tinged mind, green from inexperience as well as envy of those who have so many more opportunities than I, wonders if this will be a first in a series of all-nighters. I taste the copper taste of fear, but I relish it, and for once in my lifetime, my fear drives me. I greet a few early risers good morning, and I salute the stragglers of yet another late night. Then, taking in and savoring the first rays of dawn, I go back to command central. Pizza boxes litter the room. Coalated, compiled, and coagulated with sweat, staples, and a sense that we must succeed, we collectively heave a sigh of relief. Our ambush of a handout is DONE , finally!