I never meant to become someone who gets distracted this easily.
But somewhere between juggling client deadlines, checking emails on five tabs, and convincing myself that organizing my bookmarks was “urgent,” I realized my focus had become a joke.
Working freelance is great, but it also means the line between working and not working can vanish fast. I’ve lost full afternoons to distractions I don’t even remember.
Not because I wasn’t trying—but because I didn’t notice how slippery it all gets. Distraction isn’t always loud or obvious. Sometimes it’s a quick scroll that turns into an hour.
Or a random idea that pulls you off course. So instead of blaming my brain, I started testing ways to stay on task.
Small changes. Nothing life-altering. But enough to make me feel like I’m driving the day instead of chasing it. Here’s what’s actually helped me get things done without burning out.
Put the Phone Somewhere Stupid
The phone is the #1 destroyer of focus. You don’t mean to scroll for half an hour—it just happens. That’s why I put it somewhere inconvenient.
The bathroom, a closet, even under a pile of laundry. Not having it in arm’s reach gives me just enough friction to ignore it.
Most “urgent” things aren’t. If someone calls twice, I’ll check. Otherwise, it can wait. Notifications don’t run my schedule. Out of sight isn’t just out of mind—it keeps me from falling into a black hole of distraction.
Make the Space Boring
If my desk feels too interesting, nothing useful happens there. I get rid of random objects, snacks, and digital clutter.
No unnecessary tabs, no second screen playing something “in the background” (which is never really in the background).
A boring workspace removes easy exits. I’m not tempted to fiddle with things or chase side-quests. I want my desk to feel like a place where one thing happens: work.
Not eating, not chatting, not checking flights I’m not taking. Less stimulation outside helps me actually use my brain where it counts.
Keep a Notepad for Random Thoughts
Distractions come disguised as important ideas. “Oh, I need to email Casey,” or “What if I changed my entire website font?”
My brain loves throwing out side quests mid-task. So I keep a notepad right next to me. Anything that pops into my head gets written down—nothing fancy, just enough so I won’t forget.
Then I return to what I was doing. It stops small thoughts from becoming full interruptions. That list can grow fast, but it keeps my workflow smooth.
A scattered mind needs somewhere to unload, or it’ll drag me everywhere.
Use Sound, But Not Lyrics
Music is tricky. Lyrics pull focus, even if I think I’m ignoring them. So I stick to instrumental music or ambient noise—something without language.
I use playlists like lo-fi beats, soft piano, or even nature sounds if I’m feeling dramatic. If I’m writing, anything with words competes with the ones I’m trying to find.
Sound still helps block out the chaos, but it needs to stay in the background. I’ve even used white noise machines when I really want to zone in.
Words distract, rhythms guide. That balance makes a big difference.
Give the Day a Shape
I don’t plan every minute, but I don’t let the day wander either. I split it into zones: morning for heavy focus, midday for admin tasks, late afternoon for easier stuff.
This way, I don’t waste time wondering what to do next or switching between too many things. The structure helps me protect deep work hours.
If I just wing it, the day tends to vanish without results. Giving the day some shape doesn’t mean locking it in stone—it means giving it bones, so it can stand up straight without falling apart.
Let Boredom Happen for a Minute
That moment where your brain stalls and you instinctively want to open a new tab? Pause. Just sit there. It feels like you’re wasting time, but that pause matters.
If you can resist filling the gap with something mindless, the urge fades. I’ve found that staring into nothing for two minutes is less damaging than chasing distractions for twenty.
Most of my best momentum shows up after that pause, not before. It’s like holding your breath before a dive—awkward but necessary. Waiting through boredom lets the real focus sneak back in.
Set a Fake Deadline
Real deadlines are often too generous to create pressure. So I give myself shorter ones that I pretend are real. If something’s due Friday, I aim for Wednesday.
I don’t always nail it, but I end up way closer than I would without the trick. The earlier goal stops me from pushing everything to the last minute.
I treat the fake one like it matters, which keeps me from drifting. It’s not about stress—it’s about avoiding the false calm that comes when a deadline feels far off. That’s where procrastination breeds.
Make the End Obvious
There’s something weirdly powerful about shutting a laptop with intention. It tells my brain, “We’re done.” I used to blur the line between work and downtime, which made both feel worse.
Now, when I’m done, I actually end the session. I close tabs. I turn off music. I change the lighting in the room. It helps draw a clear line between working and not working.
That small action reduces the mental drag into the evening. When you know the end is real, it’s easier to work with focus—because you’re not trapped in forever-mode.
The Bottom Line:
Staying focused isn’t something I’ve mastered—it’s something I manage. Every day comes with its own distractions, some louder than others.
Some days I’m locked in and moving fast. Other days, my brain wants to do everything except the thing I need to do. But those are the days these small tools matter most.
I don’t use every trick perfectly, and I don’t pretend to have endless discipline.
But I’ve learned that even a few smart moves—like moving my phone out of reach, shaping the day a bit, or giving distractions somewhere to land—can change how much I get done, and how I feel doing it.
I still fall off-track sometimes, and that’s fine. This isn’t about becoming a machine. It’s about making space for actual work to happen, without letting noise take over.
If focus feels hard, that’s normal. It just means you might need better guardrails, not a new personality.