For the past three-ish months, I’ve been working from a tiny desk that’s a mere 36 inches from a much cushier couch, 111 inches from the fridge, and smack dab in the middle of my girlfriend’s favorite meandering route through our apartment.

Despite a lengthy track record of avoiding desks of all varieties, I’ve been clinging to this hunk of wood like it’s the door from Titanic, trying to summon a smidge of stability amid the choppy waters of the pandemic.

I’m still not sure I’ve entirely succeeded at “being a person who actually works at a desk productively,” but I’ve definitely improved a lot. Here are some pointers!