How Well You Work is Linked to Where You Work

When people ask me about fractional or independent work, the conversation usually revolves around finding clients, managing time, or setting rates. But one question that rarely comes up—yet makes all the difference—is where you actually plan to get your work done. If you don’t have a setup that supports your focus and productivity, it’s going to be incredibly hard to sustain momentum through the natural peaks and lulls of project work.

I’ve known for a long time that my output is directly tied to my physical environment. Where I work isn’t just a backdrop—it’s a key factor in whether I can do my best thinking. Yet, for most of my career in traditional employment, this need went largely unmet. You’re usually given a desk, in a space, that works best for the company—not necessarily for you.

If you're new to fractional work and haven’t yet experimented with designing your own "peak creativity nook," you may find it hard to build the consistency you need to show up for yourself day after day.

And as I’ve learned, getting this right is harder than it seems. Here’s how I’ve approached it over the years.

The Trial-and-Error of An Ideal Workspace

Since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic exactly five years ago, I haven’t worked in a traditional, in-person office environment. Like many of us, I spent the first two or three years cobbling together a functional-enough setup in a mandatory "work-from-home" culture. Unfortunately, the timing couldn’t have been worse—just as the world shut down, we had dismantled our home office to make space for a new baby. Which meant that, for the first year, my "workspace" was a tiny desk wedged between a dresser, a bassinet, and the bed in our already-cramped NYC apartment. Not ideal.

By year two, I got lucky—I landed at a startup that managed to secure coworking space in Midtown Manhattan. The summer of 2021 brought a welcome change of pace: Real desks, real people, and an actual commute. At that stage, it was mostly the desperate few (i.e., parents of young kids) who were willing to brave the risks of in-office work four or five days a week. But for me, it was worth it. (Seriously. I was so happy about it that I wrote a "treatise to the commute" that fall.)

When I went fully fractional in January 2022, I knew I needed a different setup. By then, daycares had reopened, so my two-year-old was out of the house, making work-from-home somewhat feasible—at least until 3:30 p.m., when I’d have to “hide” while the babysitter ran point for a few hours. But when we had our second baby that summer, the equation changed again. With a newborn requiring full-time care, working from home during the day became impossible.

In January 2023, I decided enough was enough. I invested in the tiniest, single-person office imaginable in a vanilla-vanilla coworking office complex, where everybody largely leaves me alone. It's nothing remarkable. I don't have a window, I don't have friends here, and I've never had a visitor (because there's no room for one).

But I've been working from this 54-square-foot box for approximately four days a week for two years now, and it's been the best decision for my creative output and productivity.

Why Space Matters

When I first arrived in my shoebox office, I brought only the essentials—cables, chargers, an extra monitor, a coffee mug, a family photo, and a few books I liked. It was functional, nothing more. Early on, I added a few practicalities: some snacks, cleaning supplies, and a hook for my coat. I assumed that was all I needed.

But then, without planning to, I started accumulating things. My kid handed me a piece of art, and I taped it to the wall. I found a quirky totem while traveling and brought it in to sit on my desk. I spotted an art poster at a photography museum and decided it belonged here. At some point, I realized the glass walls were essentially giant whiteboards, so I bought markers and started scribbling ideas directly onto them. Over time, plants appeared. Plants died. (No window...) Fake plants appeared. Then stickers. A throw pillow. A side table. You get the picture...

Two years later and this is what my office looks like now.

Apparently, what I’ve learned is that I need a cozy corner of curated clutter in order to do my best work. My "functional" office slowly evolved into a space that reflects my personality, my history, and the way I think. And that’s what makes it work for me.

How to Design Your Own Ideal Creativity Nook

Space matters.

If you do the kind of work that requires focus, you need a place where you can work uninterrupted. This generally means you need a place with a door. If you do the kind of work that requires creativity, you need a space for you to get inspired. This generally means you need to have enough autonomy to make creative decision decisions to change what that space looks like. If you do the kind of work that requires collaborating with other people, you need a space that either lets you take lots of phone calls and video calls, or a place that encourages IRL creative ideation. That means you either need a door (to take private calls) or it means you need access to gathering rooms for more people. (Ideally, both.)

As I've learned, it's actually really hard to get this formula right. Particularly if you're strapped for cash (ie: startup mode), stuck in a global workforce shutdown (ie: pandemic mode), or space-constrained in your own home (ie: parent mode).

So whether you're currently working for yourself or considering making the shift sometime soon, I invite you to ask yourself: What kind of physical space do I need to optimize my likelihood of success? What do I need to change today to make that happen?

Maybe all you need is a 54-square-foot shoebox of your own.