The Dumbest Thing Just Derailed My Workflow
Autism, ADHD, and a broken $45 kitchen timer.
It’s no great secret that I was diagnosed Autistic at 42 a few years ago, but since my diagnosis I’ve read widely about the effects of combined Autism and ADHD and I’ve identified that I’ve most likely been blessed with both.
After much time and effort on my part understanding how to best manage my productivity I’ve figured out the perfect setup to keep me productive, motivated, and on task.
That is until today.
It was about three days ago when I was cleaning my desk and I noticed that one of my favourite desk items had a black mark on it’s surface. The object? A bright red kitchen timer I’d bought years ago to begin my journey with the Pomodoro Technique.
If you haven’t heard of it before I’d be utterly surprised.
In a nutshell, the technique has you set an amount of time you want to work for on a timer, and then stick to working for that time. Then you have a short break, work again, and after 4 times working you have a long break.
Seems deceptively simple—and it is—but that’s its power. It’s easy to get started, easy to stick to, or so I thought. The thing is, I didn’t know how much I’d come to rely on my simple red kitchen timer, until I broke it.
While attempting to clean the black mark off my timer (I think it was black sharpie) I accidentally twisted it the wrong way, which broke a little piece of plastic inside the housing and overwound the mechanism the wrong way.
Yes, I tried to fix it.
Let’s just say it didn’t go so well.
So like anyone else I jumped on Amazon to see if I could find a similar replacement and BINGO! I found the exact one I just broke…
Now I’m not about to drop that kind of coin on a simple mechanical kitchen timer, because I’m sure I’ll be able to find one significantly cheaper (hello AliExpress), but it has truly surprised me just how much I’m lost without it.
In fact, I’m a little disturbed by just how much it’s affected my productivity not having it by my side.
Whenever I sit down to work I open my laptop, read a few emails, then get into deep work. This is where I’d grab my timer, set it for 45 minutes, put on some music and get started with its soft tick-tick soon fading into the background.
I realised a long time ago that I work best in 45 minute bursts, with 15 minute breaks in between, and a longer 30 minute break at the end of 4 ‘work units’. But without my timer I find that I drift wildly between working and not working.
Now hold up a second, I forgot to tell you that I’m a mind reader… wait I’ll prove it.
*holds right hand to forehead*
You’re thinking “why don’t you just use your laptop or phone?”
For one simple reason, it’s digital not physical. Let me explain.
See, for me the act of picking up a timer, rotating it to the right minute mark, and putting it down means I’ve exerted intention to actually sit down and work. I’ve tried software timers before, both on my phone and on my laptop and I find that they just don’t provide me the same drive as a physical timer does.
Maybe that’s because I’m here in the real world, and if the timer is digital it feels “less real” to me. But if it’s a physical timer that I set, then I sit down and get the work I want to do done, no questions asked.
So here I am, lost in a productivity limbo, able to still get stuff done but at nowhere near the rate I could, and all because I broke my cheap—or not so cheap—red kitchen timer.
Turns out, I’ve been leaning on that little red timer more than I ever realised.
It’s frustrating because I should be able to just swap in an app or another method and keep going. But it’s fascinating because it proves something I’ve long suspected—sometimes you just can’t beat physical, tangible tools which work better for your brain.
So now, my mission is clear: Find a replacement that doesn’t cost $45.
Or suck it up and pay for the overpriced nostalgia piece that keeps me on track.
Because at the end of the day, the real cost isn’t the price of a timer, it’s the hours I’m wasting without it.
