I sometimes look for patterns that are not really there. Ghosts, reflections of thought now long forgotten. Recently I have been distracted from my main work by several things — messages, the awful disintegration of the UK, shiny things and thoughts of the future.
I wondered why I have not been as focused and I discovered I can blame a chair.
You see, I put together one of those insanely comfortable Ikea chairs, this one belonging to my sister. To cut a slightly longer story short, I thought it was best to give it some love, use it (it also made a handy place to drape my winter blankets over), especially for reading in.
I’ve sat in it precisely zero times. The dog, who is not even ALLOWED up here, has sat in it more than that. It’s become his chair when he escapes his confines, lolling innocent and smug, happy at his great escape.
Instead, I move it on to my bed, picking it up, heavy blankets and all, on six days out of seven (my four HIIT workout days, plus the two rest days when I do mobility work/yoga/stretches). The only day it does not get moved is Monday — today. This is my day of complete rest, when my muscles ache and protest that I am allowing them time to reknit, to strengthen.
I am taking the chair apart later today. No longer to be shifted, no longer to be used as a place to dump jackets, notebooks, novels, pens etcetera. Instead I am hoping that clearing this space again — having a larger blank canvas of floorspace behind my desk — that this will somehow spark a better routine again. I am hopeful — I have learnt much about myself in the last year, and I know that a small change such as this can actually stimulate my brain, push it further into getting-stuff-done mode.
Watch this space. But not the literal one behind the desk. That would be weird.