Setting Up an Office While Autistic: “It Has to Be Done”

Moving into a new office sounds exciting—new space, new possibilities, blank canvas… maybe for your brain. My until brain notices everything is slightly wrong. Not quite right. Feels crooked.

The desk is crooked, sure it’s level, but it FEELS crooked. The chair is a millimeter off. The light hums. It’s hot, my brain that is. My sensory system is quietly screaming. And yet, my office mates walk in and say, “Wow, you really like rearranging furniture, huh?”

No. No, I don’t. IT HAS TO BE DONE. The desk can’t be at that weird angle or I’ll feel trapped, but if I move it over there the beautiful sunlight makes the white paper too bright, the chair can’t be a millimeter too far left, and do you hear the light mocking me in fluorescent Morse code? Every little adjustment is a survival tactic, a tiny victory against sensory chaos—not a fun pastime - and I have other things to do!

So yes, maybe you see me moving the chair again. Or nudging the desk. Or tilting the lamp. It’s not a hobby. It’s my nervous system quietly negotiating peace with the universe. And honestly? Once the desk is ACTUALLY where it is SUPPOSED to be, the light is softened, and the fan is finally angled just right, my brain will allow me to transition to the next thing.

So next time you see me “rearranging the furniture” for the third time this hour… just know: I’m not being picky. I’m being sane.

The Atlast Project →

Neurodivergent Executive Directors Do This (But Don’t Call Them That)

  • They rearrange their office furniture at least three times before 10 a.m. Not because it’s fun—because it has to be done.

  • They know exactly which light is the loudest and which chair smells faintly like stress.

  • They have a fan, noise-canceling headphones, and a drink within arm’s reach at all times, because sensory regulation is non-negotiable.

  • They read emails like a forensic investigation: every word, every comma, every hidden subtext.

  • They create elaborate systems—color-coded, labeled, and documented—so they can actually find the sticky note with the quarterly report on it.

  • They take micro-breaks with and without guilt. Sometimes that’s just staring at the wall and thinking, what is that sound?"

  • They might look like they’re “hyper-focused” or “overly serious” or “quirky” in meetings—but really, they are managing three invisible spreadsheets in their head while tracking who’s stressed, who’s overwhelmed, and what just went off the rails (certain it was something they said wrong and their face didn’t match).

  • They do not like being called “Executive Directors.” It feels too formal, too jagged and pointy, and besides—they don’t really buy into that whole hierarchy nonsense.

Maybe you have one, maybe you know one, maybe you are one - either way neurodivergent leaders aren’t just “different.” They’re quietly committed to fairness, accuracy, and surviving sensory chaos, and the systems that support it and you… all while politely asking you not to call them what their business card says.

~ Pearl Jenkins, Sender of Many Emails Regarding Many Systems