A calendar
A day marked eight times, so no stretch of it goes unmarked — the oldest complete answer to how to shape a day.
First light. Of the eight, the one that is plainly praise.
Midday — the hour of greatest distraction, marked for exactly that reason.
Sunset. The day is handed over, and the lamps are lit.
The shortest of all, the same words every night, so they can be said half-asleep.
Psalm 119 says seven times a day I praise you, and Benedict built a life around it: eight offices, with Vigils, Prime, Terce and None between these four, so no stretch of the day is more than a few hours from a return. It was never a schedule for getting more done. It is a schedule for not disappearing into the middle of a day.
If you visit a monastery, you can sit in on any of the hours. Nobody expects you to know the words. Take two of the eight home — dawn and before sleep is the usual pair.