Yesterday, severely bummed out by the crap weather and my general state of underemployment, I decided to reclaim my immediate physical and mental environment by rearranging my apartment. I had previously assumed that any configuration other than the one I’d stuck with for the past three years was impossible, given the place’s strange configuration.

But after some preliminary measuring I figured out a way I could do it. The unusual layout of my apartment means that the central, largest room is where I put my bed and desk when I first moved in; this became my default room, the room I spent all my time in. The front room, which is really more of a long, narrow passageway, saw very little use. I put my books there, along with anything else I wanted out of the way.

As a result, I never spent any time there, even though it has lots of windows and plenty of space. I kept my large recliner there, but never sat in that recliner. It was silly; it was a waste.

When I started doing digital sabbaths a few weeks ago, several people advised that I shouldn’t keep my computer (or any devices with screens, really) in my bedroom. I assumed my apartment’s arrangement made this impossible.

So yesterday my primary goal was to get my computer out of my bedroom—to get as much stuff, really, as possible out of my bedroom. To make it an actual bedroom, where I sleep and do very little else.

To that end, I moved my giant desk into an alcove in the front room. It fits, if snugly. But it feels like a real workspace. Less confining than a cubicle, but tucked away out of my line of sight, where I am more likely to consciously sit at it to do work, rather than just plop myself down in my desk chair by default and surf the internet just because it’s there.

(This also meant that I cleared all the extraneous papers and books from my desk, for the first time in, oh, about four years. I have absolutely no idea why I saved most of this stuff. There were magazines, notes, junk mail, out-of-date bus schedules, 39-cent stamps, Pogs, posters for Herman’s Head, coupons for Crystal Pepsi, tickets to a Dishwalla concert, and an Apple Newton. There were also student papers from the first class I ever taught at the U, back in 2005. This means that I carried that stuff with me when I moved in 2006. Why? Did I really think one of those [extremely bright and motivated] students was going to track me down and demand the in-class exercise he once wrote about the awesome frat party he went to?)

Now, my front room will probably see a lot more use, since it contains my desk and my couch. The middle room will see use when I need to sleep. It feels good to have a discrete bedroom again. The energy in there is already different.