Breather

I take breaks. I work intensely for forty-five minutes, the full force of my mind focused on my single task, and after the time is up, I relax. I take a break that does not involve surfing the web. I stretch. I do jumping jacks. I go for a short walk. I stare out the window and watch the snow fall. It twirls in the wind, it zig-zags, it comes down and lands gently on the people walking on the sidewalk below. They hurry, they look anxious, they swear at cars cutting them off. They look with disgust at the sky. This snow was unexpected. No one told us about it. Why is this happening? Poor people, I say, relaxed and chill. Then I get back to work.