The Algorithm Thinks I’m a Different Person Every Week
By Ken Hollow, freelance chameleon and reluctant trend hopper Every Monday, I check my analytics like a responsible content creator who pretends to enjoy numbers.…

By Ken Hollow, unwilling landlord to capitalism
Remember when remote work was supposed to be freedom? No more commutes, no more office politics, just pajamas and productivity. Instead, what we got was corporate squatting. Your home isn’t yours anymore. It’s a branch office, a satellite hub, a place where capitalism pitches a tent in your living room and refuses to leave.
Congratulations. You’ve been annexed. Your landlord? The company.
Companies love to say remote work empowers employees. Translation: “We shifted all our overhead costs onto you.”
They didn’t give you freedom. They just outsourced the office to your house. And they’re not paying rent.
And let’s not forget the spyware. Companies install “productivity trackers” that log keystrokes and take random screenshots. I didn’t survive dial-up internet just to have my boss stare at my Spotify playlist while I’m working.
At this point, the only difference between my employer and a raccoon breaking into my kitchen is that the raccoon doesn’t demand quarterly reports.
Nana, of course, loves remote work. She turned her “home office” into a ritual chamber. Candles, velvet curtains, ambient chanting piped through her AirPods. When HR asked for proof of her ergonomic setup, she sent a photo of a crystal throne. Approved instantly.
She also trained the raccoons to attend Zoom calls on her behalf. Shockingly, they’re more responsive than half the brand managers.
Because remote work isn’t about you. It’s about:
Remote work was never emancipation. It was annexation.
Your home isn’t yours. It’s corporate property now. The office didn’t die — it just moved into your bedroom and started charging rent in the form of your sanity. Remote work is corporate squatting, and you’re the unpaid landlord.
So the next time a manager says, “We’re saving money by going remote,” just remember: they’re saving it by colonizing your space. At least raccoons bring snacks when they invade.
Ken Hollow, unwilling landlord of capitalism, squatting in his own home
Hi. I’m Ken. I run Two Second Solutions, a one-man agency that somehow landed a fox spirit influencer as a client. I drink too much coffee, blog when I need to vent, and regularly update my résumé just in case she sets the office on fire again. I’m not crying — it’s just spell residue.
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