The first time I met my current manager in person I had no idea who she was. She was welcoming, kind, and when she walked away, I asked the only person in the room that I knew (my actual manager at the time), who she was.
In my mind, she could have been one of three women I had met during my interview process [all from the collarbone up.] Since then, we had worked behind Zoom haze, profile pics, and a collective agreement to keep cameras off unless bribed. At one point, in a full team meeting, I was convinced we’d hired twins… turns out it was just two men with similar haircuts, facial hair, and a shared talent for looking composed in 200-pixel thumbnails.
This is the beautiful, bizarre reality of remote work: deeply connected to voices, vibes, and Teams’ messages… yet totally disoriented when face-to-face. Like catching your favorite podcast host in 3D. Or realizing your “work bestie” has been signing off at 8pm every day because they live three time zones behind you (shout out to you Vinnie Lopez)!
And then, there’s the annual team meeting where people arrive travel weary, with pocket snacks and a little social rust. There’s always at least one new hire, and someone missing whose absence feels bigger than the seat left behind. It’s not bad. It’s just… strangely tender. Like remembering how to dance with a partner you haven’t seen in a while; the rhythm’s still there, but you need a beat or two to find it again.
And maybe that’s the real work of working together across miles and monitors. Not perfect systems, but small anchoring moments. Not flawless onboarding, but welcoming energy. Not solving for every variable, but staying human through it all.
So here’s to remote work life:
Where every “quick call” is actually a calendar Tetris match.
Where your workmates might live 4,000 miles away.
And where “Did we lose someone?” in a team photo is both a logistical and emotional truth.
I look forward to seeing you all soon!
