Let me set the scene.
It’s an evening supper, one of those grown-up tables where the napkins have their own cutlery and the water comes in a glass that looks like it has a trust fund. The air smells like roasted rosemary something, and laughter rolls around the room like warm thunder. Somehow, don’t ask me how, I’ve ended up seated among the high-fliers: MBAs, Heads of Talent, EXCO members, the types who say things like “synergies” without flinching.
I’m there slicing my steak slowly and deliberately, trying to look like I belong. If anyone had zoomed in too closely, they would’ve noticed that I used the wrong flipping fork, yes I did watch YouTube tutorial right before arriving.
Then someone asks a question.
A simple one.
“How do you get things done?”
I keep my head down. Surely, this isn’t for me. Me? The guy who still has unread emails from last year? The guy whose to-do list has become a to-don’t-ever list?
But when I look up, the question is aimed straight at me. Direct eye contact. No escape.
“How do you get things done?”
I swallow my steak wrong and nearly cough up my credibility. Of all the people at this table draped in qualifications and corner-office titles, you ask me?
Still, I start mumbling something about “the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” and “productivity buckets” and “prioritizing quadrants” like I’m reading out loud from a self-help book I didn’t finish.
Before I embarrass myself completely, someone cuts me off and says, quite casually:
“If it takes less than 2 minutes, just do it.”
Just do it. No Nike trademark intended.
They continue: “If you open an email and the reply will take less than 2 minutes, respond immediately. If you see a lightbulb out and you can replace it, do it. If there’s a dirty cup in the sink and it takes a minute to wash, just do it.”
Before I even process this, someone else jumps in:
“I call it hammer time. Every morning, I hammer through a list of all the tiny things that take less than 2 minutes.”
This guy looked genuinely proud of his system. I, on the other hand, wondered if every kind of 2-minute quickie was allowed on that list… but I kept that thought safely inside my head where it belongs.
The table laughed, nodded, and moved on. But I stayed behind mentally, turning the idea over like a coin between my fingers.
Two minutes.
That’s shorter than a voice note from your overly dramatic friend.
It’s shorter than a TikTok recipe for a dish you’ll never cook.
It’s shorter than the amount of time you spend convincing yourself you’ll “get to it later.”
So why not try it?
The Next Day: The Gospel of the Quickie
I woke up the next morning determined, almost religiously, to try this 2-minute thing.
Before my mind had time to negotiate, complain, or sabotage me, I did the first quick thing: placed all my stationary where it belonged.
It took under a minute.
Then I threw away the empty water bottle I’d left next to my bed.
Eight seconds.
Then I responded to an email I’d been avoiding. The reply was literally one line: “Noted, thank you.”
Nine seconds.
I suddenly felt… productive. And not in the big, dramatic way, like launching a business, running 10km, or finishing a degree. No. It was a soft productivity, a gentle hum in the background saying:
“You’re capable. Look at you, handling your life.”
It’s strange how these tiny tasks, tasks you’ve ignored, stepped over, pretended not to see, or promised Future You would take care of, carry a quiet weight. You don’t even realise how much your brain is lugging around until you start dropping those weights one by one.
The little things matter.
The lightbulb you keep forgetting to replace.
The WhatsApp message you’ve left on read for so long, it’s now practically ghosting.
The dish you “might as well wash since you’re already in the kitchen.”
The form you could fill in while waiting for your kettle to boil.
When I started doing them, something shifted.
It wasn’t just productivity, it was momentum. A psychological trick. A small win that unlocked a slightly bigger win, and suddenly my day felt less like climbing Everest and more like walking downhill with the wind behind me.
Why the 2-Minute Rule Works
There’s a simple magic to it.
Apparently since I am not an expert. our brains tend to overestimate the effort required for small tasks. We treat them like heavy admin, so we avoid them, and that avoidance clutters our mental space.
But when you actually do the thing, you realize how laughably quick it is.
Two minutes is nothing. You can survive anything for two minutes, a bad conversation, a slow WiFi connection, even a boring speech. So your brain doesn’t resist.
The second reason is even better:
Small wins compound.
Like stacking coins, at first it feels like nothing, but by the end of the week you’ve got a full jar. Completing tiny tasks builds a streak of accomplishment that bleeds into the bigger stuff.
Suddenly that email reply warms you up to tackling a bigger task. Replacing the lightbulb leads you to reorganize the shelf. Washing that one cup inspires you to take out the trash.
Momentum is a beautiful thing.
It Also Removes That Quiet Guilt
You know that guilt? The one that hums like a fridge in the background of your life?
“I should’ve done that.”
“I still haven’t replied.”
“I’ll get to it… eventually.”
The 2-minute quickies silence that hum.
And trust me, silence is delicious.
Your brain loves closure. Loves completing loops. Loves when things are off the list, not floating somewhere in the back of your thoughts like lost luggage.
Try It for a Day
Not a week. Not a month. Just one day.
Tomorrow morning, before your excuses get dressed, try the 2-minute quickies.
Look around your space, your actual space and your digital one.
If something takes less than 2 minutes:
Do it.
Not later.
Not after coffee.
Not “on the weekend.”
Right then.
Two minutes.
That’s it.
A Little Warning…
Two-minute tasks are sneaky.
They multiply.
The moment you do one, you suddenly see five others you’ve been ignoring. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, you’ll feel like someone plugged your life into a power socket.
You’ll breathe easier.
Your space will look clearer.
Your mind will feel lighter.
You’ll start asking yourself why you made these things so big in your head when they were so small in your hands.
Give It a Shot And Report Back
If a supper table full of highly accomplished people swear by the humble 2-minute quickie… maybe they’re onto something.
I tried it.
It worked.
It made my day smoother, lighter, and oddly satisfying.
It’s your turn.
Try the 2-minute quickies tomorrow.
Do all the tiny things you’ve postponed into the next lifetime.
And when you’re done, whether you crushed three or thirty, come back and let me know how it went.
After all, life might be simpler than we think.
Sometimes all you need is two minutes.