We create our own limits, and are created by them

This throng of hungry office workers lines up for Chipotle every noon time. I can't imagine waiting for a third or half of my lunch break to simply get to the head of the line. But in the orderly downtime of queueing up, there is a kind of caesura, almost a musical interval of peace which gives meaning to the noise and movement before and after, sharpens the senses for bean and cheese, calms the ego of its feral intolerance of the demands of office obedience. This is chosen obedience, not imposed, and there is a chipotle sauce for its reward.