Let’s time-travel to 2019. Remember? When “work-life balance” meant occasionally leaving the office before 7 p.m. to eat sad desk salad at home. When vacations were negotiated like hostage situations with your boss. When hobbies were things you vaguely remembered from childhood, such as “reading for fun” or “enjoying sunlight.”
Back then, work wasn’t just a job—it was an identity. We wore “busy” like a badge of honor, traded sleep for promotions, and accepted soul-sucking commutes as the tax for existing. Then COVID-19 crashed the party like a rogue TikTok trend, and suddenly, the script flipped.
The great resignation, reassessment, and Oh hell no moments
Lockdowns did more than turn us into sourdough fanatics—they forced us to stare into the abyss of our lives. And the abyss stared back, asking uncomfortable questions: “Why am I paying $2,000/month to live near an office I hate?” “When did ‘existing’ become my entire personality?”
Cue The Great Resignation. Millions quit jobs that treated them like replaceable cogs. Others stayed but quietly rebelled, muting Zoom calls to water their plants (the real MVP of the pandemic). Suddenly, “productivity” wasn’t about butt-in-seat hours—it was about “Did I survive today without crying into my third coffee?”
But here’s the kicker: We didn’t just want to quit our jobs. We wanted to quit the entire algorithm. The one that said life was a ladder to climb, not a garden to tend.
Remote work: freedom, flexibility, and Why is my cat judging my spreadsheets?
Remote work wasn’t new, but COVID made it mainstream. Overnight, commutes became the 10-second walk from bed to laptop. Pants became optional. And we realized something radical: work could happen anywhere.
Suddenly, people were relocating to Bali between meetings, becoming Wi-Fi nomads who drafted emails from Costa Rican rainforests. Companies panicked: “But how will we micromanage you?!” Employees shrugged: “Slack me. I’ll be snorkeling.”
But remote work wasn’t just about location—it exposed the absurdity of the 9-to-5 grind. Why sit through a 2-hour meeting that could’ve been a 3-sentence email? Why waste peak creativity hours on spreadsheets when you could be hiking, painting, or napping? We started asking, “Does work serve my life, or am I a servant to work?”
Hobbies: from forgotten to front-and-center
Remember hobbies? Those things we used to squeeze into weekends between laundry and existential dread? After two years of lockdowns, when baking banana bread counted as a personality, we rediscovered them. But this time, with a vengeance.
People aren’t just dabbling in hobbies anymore; they’re main-charactering them. That coworker who used to “like hiking”? She’s now summiting Machu Picchu. The guy who “played guitar sometimes”? He’s busking in Lisbon, funded by his remote UX design gig. COVID didn’t just give us hobbies—it gave us FOMO for our own unlived lives.
And let’s be real: After nearly two years of wondering if we’d ever travel again, touch another human, or see a concert, we’re not settling for “someday.” Someday is now.
The clash: corporate dinosaurs vs. the “life first” revolution
Here’s where things get messy. While employees are out here building lives that spark joy (thanks, Marie Kondo), many companies are stuck in 2019. They’re demanding return-to-office mandates like toddlers insisting bedtime is at 7 p.m. “But collaboration! Culture! Synergy!” they cry, ignoring the fact that “collaboration” often means listening to Dave from Accounting chew gum loudly.
Meanwhile, employees are rolling their eyes. A 2022 survey found that 58% of workers would rather quit than return to full-time office life. Why? Because we’ve tasted freedom—and it tastes better than stale office coffee.
The disconnect is glaring:
Companies: “We’re offering pizza Fridays!”
Workers: “I’ll take healthcare and a four-day workweek, thanks.”
Companies: “But… pizza.”
The new non-negotiables: what workers actually want
The pandemic didn’t just change where we work—it changed why we work. Priorities have shifted from climbing the corporate ladder to building a life that doesn’t require escape rooms. Here’s the wish list:
Flexibility: work when you’re inspired, not when a clock dictates.
Autonomy: trust us to be adults without surveillance software.
Purpose: a paycheck’s great, but so is not selling your soul.
Time: to travel, learn, and live between deadlines.
And for those still skeptical, data doesn’t lie: Companies offering remote options see 25% lower turnover. Yet somehow, CEOs are still out here acting like in-person brainstorming is the Holy Grail.
The rise of the side hustle generation
When work no longer defines us, we diversify. Enter the side hustle renaissance. People aren’t just working—they’re building parallel lives as artists, entrepreneurs, and underwater basket weavers (hey, no judgment).
Why? Because surviving a pandemic taught us that job security is a myth. But also: Life’s too short to not monetize your weird passion for vintage typewriters. The gig economy isn’t just for survival anymore—it’s for thriving.
Case study: companies that get it (and ones that definitely don’t)
The good
Airbnb: let employees work remotely forever, and even launched a “Live and Work Anywhere” program. Result? Applications spiked 300%.
Buffer: ditched the 40-hour week for 4-day schedules. Productivity stayed the same; morale went 📈.
Patagonia: tells employees to surf midday if the waves are good. Because happiness > hustle.
The bad
That CEO who tracks keystrokes: Congrats, you’ve invented stress.
Companies hosting “mandatory fun” Zoom parties: Please stop.
The future of work: less grind, more life
The genie’s out of the bottle, and it’s not going back. The future belongs to companies that realize work is a verb, not a place. Trends to watch:
Digital nomad visas: countries like Spain and Dubai are courting remote workers with tax breaks and beaches.
Co-living workspaces: work from a Bali villa with other nomads. Networking > fluorescent lighting.
Project-based roles: work in sprints, then take a month off to backpack in Nepal.
But the real shift? Mental health is no longer taboo. Burnout is a dealbreaker, not a badge of honor. We’re done glorifying “work martyrs” who brag about 80-hour weeks.
So…what now?
To companies clinging to the past: Adapt or become a cautionary tale on LinkedIn. To workers: Stop asking permission to live. Negotiate for flexibility. Take that pottery class. Book the flight.
The pandemic didn’t just change work—it reminded us that life is fragile, fleeting, and too damn short to spend in a cubicle. We’re not “quiet quitting.” We’re living loudly.
So here’s to work that fuels us, hobbies that thrill us, and bosses who finally get it. And if they don’t? Well, Portugal’s hiring.