I’m a big advocate for remote work—
and by that, I mean the flexibility to do so.
Being able to work outside the confines of a traditional office has opened up opportunities I’m deeply grateful for. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to work with clients around the world—or run my business in the first place.
Instead of driving to the office, I walk a few steps to the little home setup I built. I power up my workstation, settle in, and get to work.
And if needed? I can take my show on the road.
But that takes planning—because it comes with limits.
I’ve refined my travel setup over time:
Noise-cancelling headphones (for chaos control)
A portable router and local SIMs (for stable WiFi)
A backpack that holds everything I need to get things done
Most of the time, it works.
I find a decent spot, plug in, and hit flow.
But lately, a new issue has crept in:
I need more screen space.
It sounds like a small thing. But it’s not.
When I’m deep in technical work—debugging complex issues, reviewing massive docs, or juggling tools—my 13-inch laptop becomes a bottleneck.
The constant window-switching doesn’t just slow me down…
it demotivates me.
I procrastinate—not because I don’t care, but because the setup makes important work feel harder than it should be.
That’s when I realized:
I can work from anywhere.
But that doesn’t mean I should do all types of work from anywhere.
I recently came across a TikTok with two Product Managers floating around a pool, working on their laptops.
It was funny. And kind of maddening.
Because the poolside dream is a seductive one.
It sells a lifestyle of freedom and leisure—especially tempting in a world where burnout is everywhere.
According to The Digital Nomad’s Almanac1:
“You can work from anywhere. Laptop by the pool. Inbox at zero. Sun-kissed and stress-free.”
Reality, however, would like a word.
Because once you try to make that dream your daily norm?
You hit a wall—called ergonomics, bandwidth, and brainpower.
And here’s the hidden cost:
When your environment isn’t supporting your work,
someone else often picks up the slack.
Are you recognizing the tradeoff and adjusting?
Or is your team carrying more because your setup isn’t carrying you?
Here’s what I’ve come to learn:
Remote work is a tradeoff. You gain flexibility, but lose control over your environment.
Being able to work from somewhere doesn’t mean it’s the right place for this kind of work.
Not all tasks are equal. Some require deep focus and space—a café table or beach lounger won’t cut it.
This article?
It started because I couldn’t focus on a piece of technical documentation I was supposed to finish.
The constant window-hopping didn’t help.
Then the noise kicked up. I lost my last bit of focus.
Three days later, in a different café, I’m finishing this rant. (I did finish the tech docs too.)
I still believe in remote work.
But now, I see it less as “working from anywhere”…
and more as choosing where to work for what kind of work.
It’s a subtle shift. But a critical one.
Sometimes, the best thing I can do isn’t opening my laptop in an inspiring place.
It’s simply being there.
Letting work wait for a moment that’s… more suited to it.
Because that’s the part of remote work we don’t talk about enough:
Not just the freedom to work from anywhere—
but the freedom to not work just because you can.
Remote work isn’t broken. But the way we romanticize it? Maybe a little.
If you’ve ever found yourself trying to write strategy docs from a hammock or joining a Zoom call in a sarong, you’re not alone.