office air-conditioning whirring like a lazy summer buzz, my eyes were glued to the computer screen. Another half hour, I told myself. Just half an hour more, and then I'd call it a day. The cursor blinked, stubbornly refusing to leap across the screen, like it was mocking my dwindling motivation.

My boss, a man with a voice that could slice bread, had promised a bonus if this project was wrapped up by Friday. But here we were, on Wednesday evening, and I was still wrestling with lines of code that seemed to have conspired to trip me up. I took a swig from my water bottle, the cool liquid doing nothing to dispel the heat radiating from my temples.

"Brenda, are you almost done?" my colleague, Sarah, asked, her voice carrying over the hum of the空调. She was leaning against her desk, phone pressed to her ear, probably gossiping about who had gotten the new parking spot near the gym. I gave her a non-committal grunt, too caught up in my battle with the screen.