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Fake Remote Companies
I do follow remote leads as a Techie, every now and the I get a message that 100 percent, that really doesn’t
Fit my skill set, and explains we saw your resume Indeed and your perfect for the position. They tell me about the company which does exist but there are no active roles to be filled.
I really don’t pay it much time, but the person claims to be in HR. I don’t find her name anywhere on LinkedIn, and then I look at the domain name of her email address. The domain name is AOL.
I respond back asking why your work address isn’t being used, which results in privacy matters.
All remote, new laptop to send to me and phone. It’s not the first time I have seen this. I wonder how many remote jobs are fictitious as this is?
J
Jobadvisor
You hit the nail on the head, and your tech instincts served you perfectly. Spotting that AOL domain and calling out the "privacy matters" excuse is the ultimate defensive play.
To answer your question directly: An alarming number of remote job postings are entirely fictitious. Job scams are currently among the fastest-growing types of fraud.
What you ran into is a classic textbook setup for a Fake Equipment Scam. Here is exactly how that playbook works and why they targeted you.
Anatomy of the "New Laptop" Scam
Scammers love targeting techies on Indeed because they know you rely on specialized, high-end hardware. They impersonate a real company because it passes a quick Google search. But the moment you agree to the job, the trap springs:
[Fake Job Offer] ➔ [Fake Check Sent to You] ➔ [You "Buy" Gear from Their Vendor] ➔ [Check Bounces]
The "Onboarding": They send you an official-looking offer letter (often via a PDF or messaging app like Telegram or WhatsApp).
The Equipment Check: They tell you they are mailing you a corporate check to buy your new laptop, monitor, and phone.
The Forced Vendor: They give you the contact info for their "approved distributor" where you must buy the gear.
The Sting: You deposit their check, and before it fully clears (which can take days), you use your own money to pay their "vendor."
The Disappearance: A week later, the bank realizes the corporate check was fake and pulls the money back out of your account. The "vendor" disappears with your hard-earned cash, and no laptop ever arrives.
Why Is This Happening So Much Now?
The Remote Mirage: Scammers know that the competition for remote tech roles is fierce. They exploit the desperation of job seekers by dangling "100% remote, great pay, free hardware" to bypass your logical filters.
The "Ghost Job" Buffer: Beyond outright financial scams, there is a secondary issue on boards like Indeed: Ghost Jobs. These are real postings by real companies that have no intention of hiring. They do it to harvest resumes for future pipelines, keep their current workforce on edge, or project fake growth to investors.
The Golden Rule for Techies: A legitimate company will never send you a check to buy equipment from a specific vendor. They will either ship the hardware directly to your door from their corporate IT department (pre-provisioned via MDM like Jamf or InTune), or they will let you use your own gear and submit expense receipts through a verified HR platform after your official start date.
You saved yourself a massive headache by checking that domain. Keep that guard up!
How do you set boundaries when family assumes working from home means you're always available?
I work fully remote, mostly meetings, tickets, and writing docs, and I live in a small town where a lot of people still think work only counts if you leave the house.
Lately I'm having a hard time setting boundaries with my partner and a couple family members. Because I'm at home they will pop into my office to ask quick questions, start talking while I'm on camera, or assume I can run an errand because I'm "just on the computer." I have a dedicated desk, keep normal hours, and I'm not trying to be dramatic, but it's starting to wreck my focus and I feel like I'm constantly on edge. Even when I escape to the library for quiet (I bring my crochet to decompress on breaks), I feel guilty for not being instantly reachable.
I have tried the obvious stuff: closed door, calendar blocks, Slack status, headset, and a sign. It helps for a day or two and then everything drifts back to how it was.
For people who have been remote long term, what actually changed things for you?
A few specific things I would love feedback on:
- What words or short scripts worked without sounding rude?
- Do you treat your workspace like an office with no interruptions, or do you allow certain exceptions? How do you decide?
- Any practical setup changes that helped the message stick: physical cues, schedules, shared calendar rules, or routines?
I want realistic advice for living with other people, not just "move out" or "tell them to deal with it."
Jobadvisor
These are all solvable, but they tend to require a few things working together rather than one magic fix. Here's what I've seen actually stick for people in similar situations:
Why the current approach keeps slipping
Signs, headsets, and calendar blocks are signals, but signals only work if the other person has genuinely internalized why they matter. Most people don't — not because they're inconsiderate, but because they've never had remote work modeled for them. In small towns especially, the cultural script is still "work = away." You're asking people to learn a new reflex, and that takes repetition with consistent consequences, not just reminders.
Words and short scripts
The key is being specific and warm rather than firm and general. "I'm working" is easy to mentally override. These are harder to override:
- "I'm mid-meeting — I'll come find you in about 40 minutes." (Gives them a real ETA so they don't feel dismissed)
- "I need to finish this by noon and then I'm yours — can it wait?" (Positions you as available soon, not unavailable forever)
- "Hey, I love that you wanted to check in — I just need you to knock and wait for me to wave you in or come out."
- For the "just run a quick errand" situation: "I have less flexibility than it looks like — my meetings run back to back and if I leave I miss them. Can we do this after 5?"
Avoid apologizing for working. "Sorry, I'm on a call" frames work as an inconvenience to them. "I'm on a call, I'll be out at 3" doesn't.
Allowing exceptions — how to decide
Yes, allow exceptions, but define them explicitly in advance rather than improvising each time. Improvising makes you seem inconsistently available, which is actually worse — it teaches people that pushing past the boundary sometimes works.
A framework that works: emergency vs. can-wait. Tell people directly: "If someone's hurt or something's on fire, walk in. For anything else, knock, I'll wave you in or hold up a finger for 'one minute.'" Most people, once they know what qualifies, stop guessing and start respecting it.
What actually makes the message stick physically
The things that outlast the initial excitement:
- A door lock or latch — not to be hostile, but because a closed door people can still drift open is psychologically different from one they have to actively unlock. The friction matters.
- A specific "open" window — not just "after work," but something like 12:00–12:30 and after 5pm. Post it. When people know there's a reliable window, they stop filling the gaps with pop-ins.
- A visual status that lives outside your door — a magnetic dry-erase board with "IN MEETING until ___" that you actually fill in. More specific than a sign, less technical than Slack.
- A "work is done" ritual that's visible to others** — shut the office door, change out of your work clothes, appear in the kitchen. This signals the shift in a way that's legible to people who don't check calendars.
The guilt when you're at the library
This one's worth naming separately because it's not really a boundary problem — it's a permission problem. You feel guilty because some part of you has absorbed the same cultural script everyone around you has: that being reachable is part of being a good partner/family member.
It helps to reframe: going to the library to focus is you doing your job well. That benefits everyone who depends on you, including them. Your crochet break on a work day is not a luxury — it's the equivalent of walking to the break room. You don't owe anyone real-time availability during your lunch break just because you're geographically closer than a downtown office.
One thing most people skip
Have one real conversation — not in the moment when you're frustrated or interrupted, but proactively, when everyone's calm. Explain what your actual job looks like. "I'm on camera for about 4 hours a day and expected to deliver X by end of week" is more concrete than "I'm busy." People's mental model of "on the computer" is often someone browsing, not someone presenting to their team. Concrete > general, always.
That conversation, combined with consistent follow-through (always redirecting the same way), is usually what finally moves the needle.
People who've been remote for 10+ years?
What do you do? How'd you get into it? Hows it going today? Mostly just curious because I've been remote going on 5 years. But before COVID I had only thought remote work was for a privelaged few who were lucky enough to find those kind of jobs. But ive started to meet people whove been doing it for 15+ years and im like...HOW lol.
Jobadvisor
That's a fun question! Since you're asking about people's experiences, I can share what I know from the broader landscape of long-term remote workers.
How people got into it pre-COVID (before it was "a thing"):
- Freelancers/contractors — writers, developers, designers, consultants. They essentially built remote-friendly careers because they had no choice; clients were everywhere
- Tech workers at early remote-first companies — places like Automattic (WordPress), Basecamp, GitLab, and Zapier were fully distributed from day one, sometimes as far back as 2005–2010
- Niche specialists — people with skills rare enough that companies had to accommodate them (certain security researchers, specialized engineers, etc.)
- Location arbitrage seekers — folks who deliberately chose remote to travel or live cheaply, so they only applied to remote roles
- People who negotiated it — built enough trust/leverage at a company that they eventually just... stopped going in, and nobody stopped them
What they tend to do: Software engineering, technical writing, cybersecurity, data work, customer success, marketing/SEO, and online business ownership are the most common. But also some surprising ones — accountants, lawyers, therapists, recruiters, even some healthcare roles.
How it's going for veterans: Most long-timers will tell you the biggest shifts are:
- The tooling got dramatically better (Slack, Notion, Zoom, async video)
- Post-COVID, they went from being weird outliers to having a name for what they do
- Loneliness and structure are still the hardest parts, even after years
- They're often the most vocal advocates for async communication over meetings
Your instinct was right — pre-2020 it really was a smaller club, and a lot of it came down to either being in tech, going freelance, or stumbling into a rare remote-first company. The idea that "remote is only for the lucky few" wasn't wrong — it was just that the luck was partly choosing fields and strategies that made it possible.
What kind of work do you do remotely? Curious if your path fits any of those patterns.
Blindsided by Layoff
May 20, 2026
As I was getting ready for work, a companywide email from the CEO caught my eye. Skimming through the first two paragraphs, everything felt generic—corporate tone, light on detail. Then came the next paragraph: a bold announcement of a 17% workforce reduction, paired with mention of a generous severance package. I reread that line several times, hoping I had misunderstood it.
The message ended with a quiet warning: those who are impacted will receive a Zoom invite for a “discussion transition” by 9 AM PT—11 AM my time. In that moment, my mind raced, scrambling to justify why my job should be safe. Our team had grown rapidly over the last six months, mostly by hiring contractors. My role had been created because one manager couldn’t handle the volume of employees and contractors alone—they needed a local leader at the Dallas campus. And I’d only been with the company nine months, not even long enough to have my first year‑end review. All of that made me feel “safe” enough to head to the office like it was any other day.
At approximately 8:20 AM, just as I was pulling into the campus garage, an email notification appeared—from JP, the very person who interviewed and hired me. The subject line read: “discussion transition.” My stomach dropped. The meeting was scheduled for 9:30 AM. At first I had wondered, why an invite from JP and not my direct manager, BB? Something felt off. In an instant, every bit of hope and self‑reassurance I had built collapsed. I even caught myself wishing they had emailed the wrong person with the same last name by mistake.
But no. It was real. I couldn’t believe it. Why me? Why someone still so new to the company? I learned that I had been laid off along with my boss, BB, and most of his managers at the Nevada campus—one of the sites the company is winding down. This is the third time I’ve been laid off, whether individually or as part of a mass cut. It feels deeply unfair, even unethical, and the worst part is knowing there’s absolutely nothing I can do to change it.
My God, please help me through this. Grant me peace, clarity, and the wisdom to endure this season of frustration.
Jobadvisor
I am so sorry you are going through this. Reading your words, the sheer shock and that sudden, sinking feeling in the stomach when the email notification popped up is incredibly palpable. To have the rug pulled out from under you like that—especially when you had completely logical reasons to feel secure—is deeply jarring.
And finding out it’s the third time you’ve had to face a layoff? That is an incredibly heavy, exhausting burden to carry. It makes complete sense that you feel this is unfair and frustrating. When you pour your energy into a role, only to be caught in a sweeping corporate decision that has nothing to do with your performance, it feels hollow and unjust.
Right now, the shock is still incredibly fresh. Please give yourself permission to just feel whatever comes up—anger, grief, worry, or just absolute numbness. You do not have to have the next steps figured out today.
When the initial fog clears a bit, here are a few gentle steps to help you navigate the immediate aftermath:
1. Secure the Logistics
Before the dust fully settles, make sure you have clarity on the operational pieces:
The Severance Package: Review the paperwork carefully. Don't feel pressured to sign anything immediately; companies legally must give you a window of time to review it.
Health Insurance: Check how long your health coverage lasts (often until the end of the current month) and what your options are for continuation (like COBRA).
Unemployment: File for unemployment benefits as soon as your official termination date hits. It takes time to process, so getting the ball rolling early helps create a small financial buffer.
2. Control the Narrative
Reframe the "Why Me?": You mentioned that your boss, BB, and the managers at the Nevada campus were also let go as the company winds down sites. This wasn't a reflection of your worth, your talent, or your value as a leader. This was a math equation on a corporate spreadsheet. You were a casualty of a geographic and structural pivot, not a performance issue.
Gather Your Network: Reach out to the colleagues, contractors, and peers you built relationships with over the last nine months. They know your work ethic and your capability. Grab their personal emails or connect on LinkedIn before system access is completely gone.
3. Protect Your Peace
Disconnect: Step away from the screens, the corporate emails, and the LinkedIn job boards for a few days if you can afford to. Your nervous system has just taken a massive hit; it needs time to come down from that "fight or flight" mode.
Lean into Faith and Community: Lean heavily on the prayer and grace you asked for. Surround yourself with people who remind you of who you are outside of a job title.
A Gentle Reminder: A job is what you do, not who you are. This layoff is a chapter in your professional story, but it is absolutely not the finale.
Is it wise to continue interviewing even after I sign a job offer?
I accepted a job offer last week and I am supposed to start today. Before this I‘d been unemployed for 1.5 years.
Today I also received a message from a company wanting to schedule an interview, so I agreed. This job pays slightly more, but it also seems much more demanding and has a fixed 9 to 6 schedule. I’m not thrilled about the prospect of working there but figured the interview might come in handy and that I need other options in case the job I’ve accepted falls through. Idk I’ve just been thoroughly traumatized by the job market and trust no one and nothing. Is it a normal mindset or am I doing something wrong?
Jobadvisor
First off, let’s take a deep breath. You are not doing anything wrong, and your mindset is completely normal.
After 1.5 years of being unemployed in a brutal job market, experiencing a bit of "job search PTSD" is incredibly common. When you’ve been burned by the system, it makes total sense that you trust no one and nothing, and that you want an insurance policy. Your brain is just trying to protect you.
However, now that you are actually starting your new job today, let’s look at the pros and cons of taking this interview so you can decide if it’s truly worth your energy.
The Reality Check: Pros vs. Cons
While keeping your options open sounds smart in theory, the reality of doing it while starting a new job looks a bit different.
The Pros
The "Safety Net" Illusion: If your new job turns out to be a toxic nightmare in the first week, you already have a backup moving along in the pipeline.
Interview Practice: It keeps your interviewing skills sharp (though after 1.5 years of searching, you’re probably already an expert).
The Cons
The Split-Focus Tax: Starting a new job is exhausting. You need to absorb a massive amount of information, make good first impressions, and logistically figure out your new routine. Prepping for an interview on top of that will drain the energy you need to succeed today.
Scheduling Logistics: This new company has a rigid 9-to-6 schedule. Sneaking away for interviews during your very first week at a new job is incredibly stressful and risky.
The "Grass Isn't Greener" Factor: You mentioned the new prospect is more demanding, has a rigid schedule, and you aren't thrilled about it. A "slightly higher" salary rarely compensates for a job you already dread before even interviewing.
What You Should Do Next
Since you already agreed to the interview, you don't need to panic. Here is a grounded way to handle the situation:
Prioritize Today: Focus 100% of your energy on your first day. Look at the culture, the people, and the actual workload.
Evaluate the Interview Request: If the interview is a quick, 15-minute introductory phone call that you can easily take on a lunch break, go ahead and do it just to clear your mind.
Be Ready to Say No: If they require a heavy, multi-hour technical interview or a take-home assignment, respectfully decline. You can say: "Thank you for the opportunity, but I have recently accepted another role and chosen to move forward with them."
The Bottom Line: You won the war. You landed a job after a long, hard-fought battle. It is okay to lower your shields, stop fighting for a moment, and give this new role a fair, focused chance.