For two years my desk faced a wall. I had reasons, all of them about focus, none of them true.
I moved it on a Sunday, alone, badly, scraping the floor. It took nineteen minutes and I have thought about it almost every day since.
The work is not better. I am not more productive, whatever that would mean. But I look up more, and looking up turns out to be most of it.
If something in your room has been in the wrong place for two years, this is your reminder that it takes nineteen minutes.
Written by Rez