Here for your Small Wins

I got a new desk last week. 

I’d been looking to get an L-shaped desk for several months. As much as I liked the standing desk I’d had over the last few years, I tend to get spread out when I’m writing—notes and printed proofs and tea and pens everywhere. I was sick of making do with having piles of papers on the floor.

I kept my eyes out for the right desk on Facebook Marketplace and online, but nothing was quite right. But then, I found it: a standing L-shaped desk. Dark wood with white cabinets (for better storing of the previously mentioned mess). 

The only challenge: it was from Wayfair.com. Which meant that it arrived in two boxes, over 100 pieces, and more bolts, nuts, and screws than I could shake an allen wrench at. 

Normally, I ask my husband or someone else who was into Legos as a child to do this kind of task. But something in me felt ready to rise to this more-than-some-assembly-required challenge.  

The first night, after the kids were in bed, I managed to get through the first 9 steps. Out of 86 steps. I resigned myself to working from the kitchen counter for the foreseeable future and went to bed. The next night, I reached step 20 and saw the beginnings of one of the cabinets that would eventually form a leg. 

The directions said it would take 2-4 hours for 2 people to complete. I think it took me around 10 hours total. Late on Friday afternoon, I got to the last step and slid the desk into its new spot in my office. Not every screw was perfectly straight, and I’m pretty sure one of the sets of shelves got installed upside down, but it is done, and dang if I’m not really proud of it. 

As I was sprawled out on my office floor, re-reading instructions and searching for the right boards and screws, it felt like I was in the midst of a metaphor. 

• Taking something that felt daunting and tackling it one step at a time. 

• At times, I felt tempted to ask someone else to take care of it for me, or to just walk away in moments when I realized I needed to undo a mistake. But the vision of my beautiful and functional office kept me going. 

• The progress didn’t feel exciting or splashy, but as each screw tightened, each board slid into its proper place, my satisfaction blossomed incrementally. 

• On the one hand, it’s not that special. It’s a manufactured desk, mass-produced. People put together complicated furniture every day, and it’s no hand-crafted one-of-a-kind heirloom. And yet—it feels special to me. I can claim my pride in the experience, rather than downplay it through comparison. 

So, what’s your “Wayfair desk”?

What’s your big and daunting thing that you know you need to tackle, one step at a time?

What’s the project, goal, or intention for 2026 that feels important to your vision and your desires?

What are the simple, not splashy habits that will blossom into satisfaction?

What’s that one thing you want to accomplish that feels important to you, even if it feels small or silly through the lens of comparison? 

What do you need to give yourself permission to take on, even if it takes twice as long or comes with the risks of making mistakes along the way?

I promise, I’m here to cheer you one, one step at a time.