I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut after two consecutive all-nighters. I was working on some sort of financing deal (no clue what the transaction was really about). We’re in the middle of the closing, and I’m basically just proofreading and running errands. Like I said, I don’t even understand the basics of the deal. After two straight days—like 48 hours in a row—I finally sneak into my office and take a nap. I mean, I hadn’t slept since early Monday morning, and it was now 4 a.m. Wednesday. So I lie down in my tiny office, close my eyes and fall asleep—until I felt a pain in my stomach. I snap my eyes open, and I see this five-foot-tall Southern wretch partner kicking me in my gut, yelling, “Wake up, wake up, we got work to do!” I think I need to quit. Soon. If the partner were a man, I think I might have killed him.