We are coming up on a year of this now, and I have read enough chirpy "five tips for remote productivity" posts to want to write the honest version instead. Working from home is genuinely good, and it has also quietly eaten some things I did not notice until they were gone.
The good is real. No commute means an extra ninety minutes a day that is simply mine. I can do deep work in the morning without anyone tapping me on the shoulder. The coffee is better than any office has ever managed. When the focus lands, it lands harder than it ever did in an open-plan room with someone microwaving fish.
The honest part is the blurring. The desk is four feet from where I sleep, and the laptop does not close itself at six. I caught myself answering Slack at half nine on a Tuesday not because anything was on fire but because the boundary between "at work" and "at home" had simply dissolved, and I had not noticed it go. The thing the office did, that I never thanked it for, was end the day by making me physically leave.
So I have started faking the commute. A short walk round the block before I start and another when I finish, in the dark and the cold, the long way round. It feels slightly absurd. It also works better than any productivity tip I have ever read, because the problem was never productivity. It was knowing when to stop.