I write at a beautiful desk. It’s solid and sturdy and a little old-fashioned, qualities I value which probably tell you more about me than the desk! I received it as a gift and despite causing the biggest challenge when it came time to move house, it remains one of my most treasured possessions.
All that said, sometimes I have a difficult relationship with my desk. Sitting at it can occasionally seem to cause a version of restless leg syndrome. A difficult piece of work, a brief few minutes of writer’s block, an overflowing email inbox – once my (weak, so weak) mind has decided it would rather be anywhere else, my fickle feet are only too happy to oblige.
Far too often then, I force myself to stay at my desk, sometimes sitting on my hands, sometimes wrapping my ankles around the legs of my chair, trying to wait out my poor willpower and treacherous toes. This afternoon was one of those times and I spent so long hunched over, dug in, frowning, that I must have looked like an illustration of poor posture. So I diligently stretched and gently turned my head from side to side.
Neck rotation left and this was my beautiful view…
And what do you know? Maybe sitting at my desk for a little bit longer isn’t quite so hard.