Recently while I was in a hotel room in Tusayan, Arizona, the sun was coming up around 8a. The family's asleep, internal clocks still set to Eastern Time.

So was mine, but I had been online for the better part of 3 hours.

As a writer, my work travels with me to wherever my laptop-in-tow sniffs out an Internet connection. That day, that was 5 miles from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.

I emailed editors back East, scheduled some interviews for when we return, written a client blog and Facebook note about our adventures and reviewed the Nikon D3100 digital SLR that's chronicled almost every moment of our trip.

A fairly full morning from a quiet hotel room

My clients often wonder aloud why I "work" while on family getaways. They chide me, though their comments are offered as gentle, constructive advice about powering down. They're not suggesting I just turn off the laptop now, but that I disconnect in the greater sense - from work while away. Absorb the vacation, they say. Get into the moment.

Twenty-two years into workshifting, almost 20 years navigating that intersection where home-based entrepreneurship meets parenthood - and just as many years spent traveling with family and work in tow - I've discovered a thing or two about getting into the moment. I realized long ago it's a deeply personal thing, ingrained into each of our DNA.

Frankly, my moment comes before the first family member stirs in the morning. By the time they'll awaken today, I'll have logged more than 1,000 words of varying sorts - both billable and non-billable. They'll be none the wiser; my clients will feel, well, if not "lucky," then thankful that I delivered their project (even though I warned them before leaving home that I would NOT be working - and IF I happened to deliver work, then that would not be an invitation for them to open the floodgates to more requests or obligations).

Workationing is about managing expectations - of family, of clients, of yourself

I don't push the issue with the family, though as the children of an entrepreneur, my kids can connect the dots between work, paycheck and vacations. As for myself, I abide by the limit we seem to have worked out here: once the family is awake, the laptop soon closes, likely until we hunker down for the night. Then my time is my own again.

So working from the road means different things to different people. To me, it's about finding balance in life and work - and frankly, I love what I do. As a writer, I enjoy the writing and editing process. I find catharsis in creativity and release in the moment I hit Send to deliver a finished product. I feel blessed that freelancing affords me the chance - or shall I say, the freedom - to pursue my career from anywhere: a hotel room near the Grand Canyon, a lodge in the Ozark Mountains, or a cruise ship in the Caribbean.

As the family awakens, it's time to power down (the laptop, not my workshifting). I still have my BlackBerry; I still get work emails and correspondence in need of response. And I respond. My family won't chide me if I peek and reply here and there.

They're OK with that.

And so am I.

Photo Credit: chrissam42

Several years ago, I wrote about the role of impromptu telework after an ice storm shut down parts of North Carolina. For those caught without power, workshifting was an effective, albeit makeshift, solution to keep themselves productive when Mother Nature did her worst.

Visiting Los Angeles this week with my family, I discovered first-hand how traffic is a crab walk here at the best of times. Having heard our trouble, a friend who commutes daily from Santa Monica to Beverly Hills added that the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority would soon be shutting down 10 miles of Interstate 405 for 53 hours to tear down an overpass.

The closure, scheduled for July 16 and 17, is expected to affect a half-million drivers. Few believe officials' promises that it will be completed by Monday morning's rush hour. Many are anticipating traffic chaos that will dwarf the usual snarl.

Some are already preparing for what's being likened to as a Northeast pre-planned "snow day." Rumor has it many commuters with a choice are planning long weekend getaways and mini-vacations.

Think about the lost productivity.

Why not workshift instead?

Why not plan ahead, discuss the situation with employers, employees and coworkers, arrange to bring home work that can be done outside the corporate office, and avoid the snarl - and excuses - altogether?

Alternatively, find or create a telework center or temporary workspace where people can continue working without having to traverse the affected 10-mile zone. It could be an executive suite or idle space at a peer's location. Contact your attorney, accountant or other professional services firm to see if space may be available.

Then, assuming this impromptu telework "pilot project" or telework center experiment succeeds, explore expanding it into a regular telework program. All it takes for most will be a computer with Internet access, relatively comfortable workspaces and a mind open to new possibilities.

The company may benefit from increased productivity - in both good times and bad - beyond this one-time opportunity. Next time construction (or poor weather or an earthquake) shuts down an interstate or otherwise makes transportation impossible, people in unaffected areas can continue working.

As we were traversing the L.A. freeways this week, we were aghast at how long it took to drive even a short distance. It would seem L.A. and workshifting were made for each other - even without the impending chaos of a 10-mile closure of the 405.

Photo Credit: Bugsy Rocker

Laptop? Check. Cell phone and charger? Check. Mindset to work productively from the road during the family's extended summer road trip? Uhhh...

Preparing to take a "workation" from the road is not as simple as it may sound. Think of it as "mind over motel" - you have to find that place where your creative spark feels comfortable igniting, even if it's a place you've never seen or been before.

As our family heads out on a three-week road trip from South Florida to Northern California, I've promised myself not to work too much. But, in addition to the "slob gene" I wrote about previously, I also bear my father's habitual early rising. So while they slumber, I'll surf or work.

I've read with interest Rhonda Hughes' dispatches as she's driven some 4,000 miles from California to Massachusetts. As a four-year teleworker, she's accustomed to working outside the traditional office. But working from the road? "My experience will no doubt teach me new skills," she wrote.

Indeed. I've workationed before in an adventure we call Home Office Highway. Each year, we take an extended road trip, usually in an RV - to the Carolinas, the Jersey Shore, Henry David Thoreau's Walden in Massachusetts, even Toronto and northern Ontario.

Before each journey, parallel preparation is launched. My wife packs the food and family supplies. She shops for road gorp like we're heading on a three-week walkabout in Utah. My kids (hopefully) will pack all their clothes and belongings. What they'll definitely bring along are their laptops and smart phones. Chargers? One can only hope.

I focus on the tech. Packing for a road trip isn't just about having the stuff you need to work. It's about having the right stuff, where it belongs, so you're mentally prepared to work from the road. Think of it as Jack Bauer (24) meets George Clooney (Up in the Air). Whether they carried a messenger bag or a TravelPro suitcase, both were packed before each adventure.

My trusty Oakley knapsack is my TravelPro. It's been my pop-up office-on-the-road for the better part of a decade now. Even when we take a weekend away, I just grab it and go. It's like an expecting couple's hospital bag; pre-packed with clothes and toiletries, it's good to go when baby says, "It's time."

This time, it'll carry:

• My Verizon 4G Mifi broadband wireless mobile hotspot. Mobile Internet has proven very handy indeed when on the road previously. Unlike the USB mobile Internet I once used, with the Mifi, five devices can log on at once (i.e., five people, five users). For a dad who wants to work, or a mom looking for a hotel, restaurant or tickets for a whitewater outing, mobile Internet is golden. Even if you get a short-term agreement, if you plan to work from the road, this is the way.
  
  
• A power transformer. We'll have to charge the laptops, tablets, iPods, phones and Kindles along the way (alas, one at a time, folks). The Town & Country we rented actually sports a 115v outlet. So I'll pull out and plug my Belkin mini, four outlet surge-protector / power strip in and we'll have all the power we need.
  
  
• USB headset for Skype calls home. The kids' Macbooks have iChat. But this'll allow dad to chat with family or clients from the road.
  
  
• Flash drive and card reader. I'll use these to transfer pictures to my laptop, then upload them to Picasa in the cloud. Data portability is important. More important, I'm not keen to wade through and download 1,000 pictures when I get home. I'll clear the camera's card (and delete bum shots) along the way - ensuring they're protected, should something happen to the camera. The camera's replaceable. The pictures are (hopefully) priceless.
  
  
• Carbonite account updated and all my stuff backed up. In journalism parlance, they call this "burying the lead" (putting the most important detail toward the end of the story). People who use online back-up generally enthuse about its effectiveness. Sure, I'll upload key files to Google Docs. But if I want to reference or work on something on my hard drive back in the home office, backup-to-the-cloud is invaluable. Just renewed this month. It's easily the smartest $54 I'll spend over the next 12 months.
  
  
• Laptop cable locks. Another permanent item in my Oakley. Think of it as insurance. You can never be too safe. Alas, people will be people.

Some added possible accessories: Motorola walkie talkies, if we split up somewhere in the Utah countryside; an LED flashlight, strong and powerful, it cuts through the blackest night; a GPS locator (part compass, part GPS, you mark a spot and it'll guide you back to that spot - not matter how far off the path you venture); my laptop transformer and camera and BlackBerry chargers (of course); a bottle of Excedrin and a toothbrush.

And I always stash a couple of pens and a notepad. Hey, typing is productive. Journaling is cathartic. Just ask Mr. Thoreau.

What will you take on your summer vacation?

Photo Credit: dbaron

Today, I hazarded (pun intended) a quick survey of the deskscape that is my home office workspace:

An empty plastic cup. A dinner plate with the greasy smear of today's lunch of leftover pizza. A strand of dental floss. An unopened router I'm supposed to review for one of my tech pubs. A tax return ready to be mailed. Today's mail. Yesterday's mail. Yester-week's mail.

Don't even ask about my floor.

Clutter is apparently hard-coded into my DNA. I recall the sign that used to hang in my father's office (where stacks of files were on every surface, even as file cabinets sat empty): "Please don't straighten out the mess in my office. You'll confuse me and screw up my whole world."

Guess this organizationally challenged heathen didn't fall too far from that tree.

That said, I'm efficient and successful. I wish I had a buck for every time some home office guru advised, "A tidy home office is a productive place. Cleanliness is next to godliness." Last I checked, Google is much closer--and its apps have done much more for my productivity than cleanliness has. Given the confusion in my workspace, I'd be better off taking advice from Waste Management.

Let this home office contrarian share two cents of advice found beneath the sofa cushions and the terrier that rests atop them:

• My home office is just that--my home office. So is your home office yours. Find your own rhythm clutter-wise. Sweat is better expended on billable stuff.
  
  
• My space, my rules. I've been working from a successive line of cluttered home offices since 1989, and I don't recall getting pink-slipped because my space would fail an OSHA inspection. There've been baby toys and play pens in the mix, too, at times. (That's another taboo, having kids in the home office, sages say. Well, one's now in college and two are in grade school, and they seem pretty well adjusted, thank you very much).
  
  
• Personal hygiene is no barometer. I was Facebooking with a fellow home officer who said he knew business development was slow when his scruff had grown thick. Frankly, I'm just the opposite--my beard grows thick when I'm busy.
  
  
• Watch out for the video conference requests. Recently, another friend (not a workshifter) scheduled a Skype video call with me. Unshaven, hair disheveled, and wearing a tank top, I was in no mood for such nonsense, but I threw on a hat and obliged him anyway (with the camera conveniently tilted to avoid the sight of my home office floor).
  
  
• Forget the pretense. I work from home, and all my friends and clients know this. Back 10 years ago or so, I would never leave the home in anything less than nice shorts and t-shirts. Now, I leave with no care at all about my attire. Those who know me don't care. For those who don't know me, I don't care.
  
  
• Friday will come. That's the day I generally clean the home office: transfer dishes to the kitchen, ditch detritus, file or shred papers, empty the garbage can. Which Friday this happens, I'm not sure. But one always comes along just as I'm feeling sufficiently motivated to clean.

Truth be told, professional organizers have a point in their calls for cleaner workspaces. For most, cleanliness is probably a good thing, if you want focus and productivity and all that. There's a lot to be said for the sanitary and even hypo-allergenic benefits of a space kept clean.

But I realized long ago that work is an intensely personal thing.

So, until the webcam becomes standard issue, clutter is OK--just make sure the cam's tilted up a few degrees and your secret will remain safe.

Photo Credit: Jeffrey Beall

As a home office-based working journalist and corporate copy writer, my job sometimes takes me on the road. This coming week, for example, I'll be gigging as a reporter for a private organization's trade show daily. Not sexy, but a nice gig amid the otherwise doldrums of summer-- a remote work gig for a remote worker.

But how will I make sure it happens seamlessly and without jeopardizing existing projects? And how will I make sure I work as effectively as possible from the road?

First, I clear it up front with this client: Between work for you, I'll need to do some work for my other clients. They're cool with that. They have to be, or else the gig won't work.

Next, I set expectations for my existing clients. I tell them I'll be on the road, with limited timely access to e-mail and phone calls. They know I have my BlackBerry, and I've kind of spoiled them by responding too quickly at times (or at odd hours). Not this time, I warn. "If you need me, it might take a while to get back to you."

As for my gear, that's how the work really gets done. My Oakley backpack, which generally is packed and ready for remote work on a moment's notice, will become my mobile office. In it are my...

• HP Tablet laptop. Small and portable with fairly long battery life, this has been a workhorse of my remote-work life.
• Verizon broadband USB card. I've been told I won't need my own Internet access - that the press room at the event will have Ethernet or wireless. But the size of my thumb, it's better just to bring it along and be safe and connected.
• Mini Surge Protector and power strip - with four outlets and two USB jacks for charging. I won't have my camera to charge (an extra BlackBerry charger is always packed in my bag). You never know when power outlets will be at a premium. And I've learned that power in hotels and cruise ships can be "dirty" with spikes and surges. Best to clean it up with a good protector.
• Laptop cable lock. Always. Small and portable, its high tensile-strength cable and compact size mean it never leaves my bag. There will be times I will want to leave my laptop behind - if only for a few moments. I just make sure to loop it through something secure.
• Laptop desk. My LapWorks folding tray/desk has turned awkward situations into more comfortable work settings. Weighing less than a pound, it folds to stash beside my laptop. When open, it can be a laptop desk, or a angled, desktop perch.
• Analgesics. I go nowhere without my Excedrin (in a small Dramamine travel tube) and little vials of saline for my contact lenses. Headaches can be the curse of any creative existence.

What's not in my bag? My USB headphones for Skype, my card reader and portable accessories kit, simple tools, and a few other things. We'll get to those in a future post. But I generally bring things I know I must have. Anything else can be purchased at the hotel gift shop.

This Workshifter exclusively uses Gmail, Google Contacts and Google Calendar for all my email, contact management and scheduling. So it's as pervasive and close as my access to The Cloud. For those projects I'm working on while away at this gig, they're never farther than my Carbonite.com online back-up account. Everything on my desktop is backed up - and accessible from - "out there."

With my bag packed and assuming my Cloud's intact, my office is ready to go anywhere. If you need me, leave a message. I'll get back to you - even if it's 2 a.m.

What are your essential tools?



Photo Credit: Jon Dunning