Working From Home Without Bringing It Everywhere
Working from home blurs the line between my desk and my life. Without a commute, the day doesn’t end on its own — so I’ve learned to build my own transition
I hear her before I see her — the quick patter of small feet crossing the hallway. She bursts into the room, asking if I want to play, no warm-up, no transition—just an open invitation into her world.
And I do want to. I want to give her my full attention, hear every detail of her day, and be a completely present dad. But some evenings, my mind is still tangled in work. A meeting I can’t stop replaying, a Slack message I meant to send, a to-do list I know will greet me tomorrow.
I’ve learned to create a small space between work and home. A pause to set the day down before I pick her up. Without it, she gets the distracted version of me, and I get a blur where my favorite part of the day should be.
Working from home has made this pause even more important. Without a commute, nothing naturally separates work from the rest of life. You can wake up, walk a few steps, and already be “at the office.” It’s convenient, but it can also quietly wear you down.
Over time, I’ve found a few small rituals that keep me sane while working remotely:
• Have a start and end time — even if it’s rough. The hours can easily blur otherwise.
• Create a separate work spot — it doesn’t have to be a whole room, but a space you only use for work helps you leave it mentally when the day ends.
• Change your environment — swap from your desk chair to the couch, or step outside for fresh air. Even small changes trick your brain into switching modes.
• Use a short reset ritual — it’s about fifteen minutes of writing out what I’ve done and what’s left for tomorrow. Others might tidy their desk, stretch, or brew tea.
One of the hardest habits to break was constantly checking my phone for work notifications after hours. It doesn’t feel like much — just a glance — but pulls you right back into work mode each time.
What’s helped me:
• Turn off non-essential notifications or mute work apps outside your set hours.
• Leave your phone in another room for the first part of your evening.
• Use a different device for personal browsing, so your work apps aren’t always one tap away.
It’s not about ignoring responsibilities — it’s about protecting the time you’ve already decided belongs to you and the people you love.
For me, that pause happens right after I close my laptop. I take around fifteen minutes to sit quietly and write everything on my mind, what I’ve finished, and what’s waiting for tomorrow. It’s not polished or even well-organized. The goal is to get it out of my head and onto paper so it stops following me into the rest of the evening.
After that, we head to the living room and work out together. She “works out” in her playful way — jumping, running, copying my movements — and I get both exercise and a good laugh. By the time we’re done, the workday feels truly behind me.
I know others have their ways of creating that transition.
Some people take a short walk alone, letting the air clear their thoughts.
Others cook dinner while listening to music, focusing entirely on chopping and stirring instead of thinking about work.
Some read for ten minutes before moving on with their evening.
It doesn’t have to be long or elaborate — just something that signals your mind that the day has shifted.
When I skip my pause, I notice it right away. My thoughts run together. I’m physically there but mentally scattered, and I hate that feeling. I don’t want her to get the dad who nods without hearing. The pause clears away the day's residue so I can give her my attention, not just my presence.
I think of it like closing a book. You don’t just stop mid-sentence and toss it aside — you find your place, mark the page, and gently close it. That’s what this small ritual does for my day.
Most evenings now follow this rhythm: a few minutes of writing, our shared workout, then whatever the night brings — playing with Lego, reading books, or simply talking. It’s not a perfect system. Some nights, work thoughts still slip through. But it’s better than nothing and enough to help me shift from one role to another.
It’s only a few minutes, but it changes how I step into my and her lives. I encourage anyone to try finding their version of this pause. It doesn’t have to work every time. It just has to give you a better chance of truly arriving where you want to be after work.
See You Soon!