I'm not sure precisely what I did last night when I brewed that coffee in the old French press (99¢ thrift store special—woot!), but apparently it was friggin' magical.
By my best estimates— which may be somewhat suspect due to running on only 2 hours of sleep after a marathon session of writing and presentation preparation—it has been at least 13 hours or so since I last consumed said magical brew, and here I am wandering down the street chattering to myself in a manner akin to a Ritalin addicted hummingbird. I make Pilz-e look positively lethargic at the moment...