Thanks, COVID

I once vaguely longed for the life of a digital nomad. In my imagination, a hacker would head to Chiang Mai with nothing but a laptop. He would surf, then code; make coffee, then code; drink, then play guitar. I could not even surf, but I pictured those scenes in surprising detail. I thought that if I were no longer bound to a place or a schedule, work and life would naturally blend together.

Then COVID arrived. Working from home was not a choice. Over the first eight months of remote work, I changed jobs twice and went through one breakup. But I worked not from Chiang Mai, but mostly from my room. Developing on a laptop at cafés was more uncomfortable than I expected, and I never liked noisy places in the first place. In my imagination, work and life flowing together looked like freedom. In reality, it felt more like the boundary between them had disappeared.

As the months at home stretched on, home became a different kind of place. It had been spacious enough for resting, but far too cramped for working. I could no longer put off the cleaning I had neglected. At first, I thought this life resembled the freedom I had wanted. But the days when neither work nor rest seemed to properly end became more frequent. I wanted a larger living room and kitchen, separate places to work and rest, and a quieter neighborhood. The list grew, and I decided to move.

After about three years, the advantages and drawbacks of remote work became clearer. It was good for focusing on my own life, and I no longer had to spend energy commuting. But work itself became less enjoyable. The office offered the pleasure of working alongside other people. I learned that going to a quiet, spacious workspace suited me better than working alone in my room. Going in every day would be too much, but two or three days a week sounded right.

What I really wanted was not a life without an office. I wanted a life in which I had a little more control over when, where, and with whom I worked. Surfing in Chiang Mai or coding in cafés no longer matters very much. I want to choose where I work and rest, and when to be with people or alone. Back then, being a nomad had simply looked like the only route to such a life.

If becoming a nomad were necessary to work that way, I would still want to be one. But after years of remote work, I realized that I did not have to become a nomad to work the way I wanted.

What I wanted was not the title of nomad, but a life in which I could choose where and when I worked. Without COVID, it would have taken me much longer to understand the difference.