
If nothing else, I know what I’ve accomplished in one block and what I need to do in the next. On the few occasions when I’ve finished a task early, I simply move on to whichever task requires the least time to complete. Rarely do I complete one task in exactly twenty-five minutes-I can only aspire to that level of precision. Annotate section on de Neuville in En campagne (2 Pomodoros).Annotate article #2 from Le monde illusté on the panorama of Champigny (1 Pomodoro).Annotate article #1 from Le monde illusté on the panorama of Champigny (1 Pomodoro).Some pomodoros might be as simple as “write a topic sentence” others involve a set of related tasks, as in “annotate two newspaper articles,” or stretch across multiple pomodoros. What does research include? What can I feasibly complete in twenty-five minutes? The answers to these questions constitute the “specific task” for my pomodoro. Penciling in “do research” in my planner doesn’t quite cut it. By encouraging, even forcing, me to concentrate on a specific task, this technique helps me think carefully about how I divide my time. Over the last two weeks, my skepticism has given way to gratitude. After four blocks of time, or four so-called pomodoros, take an extended break lasting fifteen to thirty minutes. The technique is simple enough: set a timer (tomato shape not required) for some amount of time, usually twenty-five minutes, and work on one specific task until the timer beeps. (In Italian, pomodoro means tomato, so named for the inventor’s use of a tomato-shaped timer.) Despite my reservations, I decided to try the technique. Sure, I needed a new system to manage my dissertation project, especially now that I worked exclusively from home, but I wasn’t convinced that a method named after a tomato was my best bet. When he first recommended the Pomodoro technique, I was admittedly skeptical. Lost and frustrated, I did what I’ve done many times before: I asked my advisor for, well, advice. By the end of my first week in quarantine, the worst case scenario had become my only scenario. In the worst, I’d done little more than “half-work” all day. In the best cases, I had accomplished a great deal.

Afternoon turned to dusk, dusk to night, and soon I realized that I hadn’t stopped to rest, let alone eat. The hours seemed to pass me by as I worked. One Tomato, Two Tomato: How I Use the Pomodoro Technique
