I started working remotely in 1984—long before “remote work” became a common way to describe where and how we work.
More than four decades later, I've learned a lot about what makes remote work work—and quite a few of those lessons came courtesy of the school of hard knocks.
Right out of college, I began working remotely for my employer. Since then, the tools have changed dramatically. The human challenges? Many of them are surprisingly familiar.
I first started working remotely right out of college in 1984. Over the years, remote work followed me through very different careers—as a remodeler, general contractor and insurance adjuster, working from home, from the field and just about everywhere in between.
That meant learning how to stay productive without someone looking over my shoulder, communicate when everyone wasn't in the same place, keep work moving when technology didn't cooperate and figure out where the workday ended when home was also the office.
Over the years, I've mentored many people who were learning how to work effectively outside a traditional office. More than once, those conversations ended with the same suggestion:
Eventually, I listened.
Right out of college, I began working remotely for my employer. Since then, the tools have changed dramatically. The human challenges? Many of them are surprisingly familiar.
A functional workspace and repeatable habits matter more than creating a magazine-perfect home office.
Flexibility doesn't have to mean always available. Work needs a beginning, an ending and some rules in between.
Communication, visibility and relationships require deliberate effort when people aren't sharing the same room.
Remote work is a tool, not a religion. The goal is to use it well when it fits the work and the person doing it.
Shorter commute.
Questionable dress code.
Furry coworkers.
Internet betrayal.
And somehow the refrigerator keeps scheduling follow-up meetings.
There are serious ideas behind good remote work: productivity, communication, visibility, isolation, burnout and boundaries. But there are also pets joining meetings, internet failures at exactly the wrong moment and the strange gravitational pull of the refrigerator.
The humor is part of recognizing what work-from-home life actually feels like. When advice feels human, it's easier to remember—and easier to use.
Shorter commute.
Questionable dress code.
Furry coworkers.
Internet betrayal.
And somehow the refrigerator keeps scheduling follow-up meetings.
A practical guide to staying productive, connected and sane when your office is your home—built from more than four decades of real-world experience.
Explore the Book →A practical and entertaining presentation about the systems, habits and boundaries that help people work better wherever they work.
Explore Speaking →Golf is usually a pretty good option. So is spending time in the backyard with my wife and our two unofficial coworkers.
And, like any experienced remote worker, I continue the daily struggle against one of the home office's most persistent productivity threats:
Bobby Sox, our kitten, serves as Chief Distraction Officer. Molly, our dog, handles the equally important role of Chief Morale Officer.