Tomorrow I’m heading to the Netherlands for a team event — two days, relaxed vibe, post-it boards, shared laughs, the kind of trip that feels more like a school excursion than “work travel.” It’s exactly the kind of trip that begs to be stretched into a mini workation. You know — stay one extra night, take a slow Saturday morning walk through cobblestone streets, maybe a museum, maybe a bakery with a name you can’t pronounce.
But this time, no. I’m coming straight back Friday afternoon.
When Two Trips Collide
Because while I’ll be returning from the Netherlands, my husband will be departing to the Netherlands. (Yes, the same country. Yes, the same weekend.) He’s off for a weekend with friends — long-planned, well-deserved, and absolutely fair. Which means that someone needs to stay home with our son, and that someone is me.
I don’t mind, really. I chose this version of freedom — the kind that includes school weeks, shared calendars, and those small domestic negotiations that keep life from collapsing into chaos. Still, there’s a little sigh that escapes every time I open Google Maps and see how close I’ll be to everything I won’t see.
The Calm Cousin of Frustration
It’s not frustration anymore. More like resignation’s calm cousin — acceptance with a to-do list. I tell myself, next time. Next time, I’ll stay until Saturday morning. Next time, I’ll do the walking tour, or visit that museum that keeps popping up in my feed. Next time, I’ll have the conversation in advance: “Hey love, next trip, I stay half a day longer, deal?”
I’m realizing that bleisure — that beautiful hybrid of business and leisure — isn’t just about flexible jobs or generous company policies. It’s about micro-negotiations. It’s about knowing who else’s freedom your freedom depends on.
Redefining Freedom
I used to think freedom meant being able to pick up my laptop and go. But maybe it’s also being able to choose to stay — to hold the fort while someone else gets their adventure. Maybe the true workation mindset is not always traveling, but always noticing: where we are, who we’re with, and what we’re giving up for it.
So this time, I’ll travel light — no museum tickets, no extra hotel nights, no delusions of extending the trip. Just a quiet mental note: “Next time, you’ll make it happen.”
And maybe that’s the trick — to turn longing into planning, not resentment.
Same Country, Different Journeys
Tomorrow I’ll get on the train with a small bag and half-formed daydreams. I’ll probably scroll through photos of canals and art exhibits I won’t see this time, and I’ll smile at the irony that both of us — my husband and I — will be in the same country, passing each other in opposite directions, both chasing our own kind of balance.
Freedom doesn’t always look like staying longer. Sometimes it looks like coming back on time, knowing you’ll try again soon.
💬 I need to connect with more bleisures and workationers! How do you carve out that extra day for yourself — or what’s stopping you?
💻 About the Workation Diva
I’m Caro, an early pioneer of remote work, studying IT in the ’90s when “the Internet” still made dial-up noises. I’ve been blending work and travel since before it was fashionable, from spa weekends during business trips to half-vacations at my family’s place in Buenos Aires. These days, I live the part-time laptop lifestyle — balancing motherhood, projects, and plane tickets, proving that freedom can come in Wi-Fi and family-size portions.
Workation Diva 