Always one to help a damsel in distress, I had to step away from the standing workstation today and put on my best rubber gloves and tabbard.
My good pal Sophie, who runs the awesome Mucky Cows Cleaning Company was short on troops and wondered if I could step in last minute to lend a hand. Luckily, I had a few hours to spare. So I said 'Yes'.
It wasn't a confident yes, though. I was scared. What had I committed to? What if I broke something? What if I was rubbish?
I'm not exactly known my cleaning abilities in our household. In fact, it's quite the opposite.
This is where I need you to keep a secret for me here... I actually enjoyed it.
It puts you in a mental state that feels like somewhere between meditation and exercise.
Your brain is focussed on details, but you still have capacity for daydreaming.
With some practice, I reckon you could use cleaning as a trigger to bring on flow states.
(To learn more 'flow' this, start with this video from Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi - He's the leading thinker in this area.)
Also, you're moving around quickly; bending and stretching, reaching high and low... So it's a bit like low-cardio yoga, in a way.
Whatever it is though, it put me into a superproductive state where the pre-frontal cortex is quiet and you become immersed in the task.
I'm not going to say I had any outstanding insights or anything like that. Because I didn't. And I'm not going to say I was the world's best cleaner... But I don't think I did too badly. My glasswork was the talk of Prestwich.
But I did come up with four blog post topics for next week... I'm pretty happy with that.
So, the next time you're struggling with a difficult decision or lacking creativity, why not do a bit of hoovering or dusting.
10 minutes is enough. But you'll probably find you want to do a little bit more. If that happens, do it.
But if you want to stop. Well, you've only lost 10 minutes of potential fidgeting time, but you'll have gained a nice clean patch of carpet (or hardwood laminiate floor).
Whichever one it is, sounds like it's worth a punt.
But like I say, don't tell the missus. This could be the beer talking.