I didn’t really see my home until I started working in it full-time.
I can also not forget our time during COVID 19.
For years, it was just the place I returned to at the end of the day. I’d leave early, commute to work, and come back in time for dinner. The rooms were functional enough, the layout worked—at least in the context of a “home base.” I never questioned whether the space actually supported my daily rhythm. Why would I? I spent most of my waking hours somewhere else.
Then came the significant shift.
Like many others, I was suddenly doing everything from home: working, leading teams, troubleshooting tech issues, cooking meals, parenting, and trying to maintain a bit of sanity. My kitchen table doubled as a desk. Conference calls happened from the hallway, where the acoustics were strangely better. And the bedroom became the only place where I could shut a door and think straight—which, as you can imagine, made it hard to separate rest from responsibility.
Within a few weeks, the cracks in my home setup began to show. My chair wasn’t ergonomic. Even though I had discussed about chairs in the past. Natural light only hit the living room for about an hour each day. And every time the dog barked or a delivery truck rolled by, my train of thought derailed. These may sound like small things, but when they’re part of your daily environment, they add up.
That’s when it hit me: this space wasn’t designed for how I now needed to live and work.
I began rethinking what I wanted out of a home—not just aesthetically but practically. During Zoom calls, I started noticing little things in other people’s setups: built-in shelves, sliding doors that separated office space, light-filled corners perfect for deep focus. I started craving those details—not out of envy but because I finally understood their function.
Eventually, casual browsing turned into research. I began looking at listings differently—not just at the number of bedrooms or price per square foot, but how the space was actually laid out. Could this room double as a studio? Would that den block enough noise for meetings? How close is the kitchen to where I’d set up my laptop?
During that process, I stumbled on Propertymesh.ca—a site that does a solid job surfacing homes with these kinds of considerations in mind. Instead of just glossy kitchen counters or drone shots of rooftops, I appreciated how easy it was to scan for practical features: natural light, dedicated office space, flexible floor plans. It wasn’t about fantasy—it was about function.
That’s what working from home taught me. A good space doesn’t just look good—it supports how you live and how you think. It helps you focus, it protects your boundaries, and it gives you room to grow into whatever’s next.
I still love my home, but now I look at it—and every future space—through a sharper lens. Because the way we live has changed. And the way we choose where to live should probably change with it.
