It always starts with a tiny frustration. For me, it was the simple act of trying to find a time that works for a team call. São Paulo, Berlin, Manila—what should be a five-minute check takes longer than the meeting itself. Every timezone tool I tried either felt bloated or too rigid. So I built the one I wished existed.

Scheduling across timezones isn’t a hard problem—but it's persistently annoying. It’s the kind of friction that’s easy to ignore, yet adds up day after day.

This was a recurring pain point in my remote work experience. I didn’t want to overthink it. I just needed a way to glance at my teammates’ timezones and simulate different hours to find overlap. Simple ask, but no tool quite nailed it in the way I imagined.

So I decided to make it myself. Not as a startup. Not for clients. Just to help myself—and hopefully others.

Process

The first prototype had a basic layout: horizontal cards showing local time for each city. But something was missing. I realized the whole point was to quickly spot availability, not just read numbers. So I added a time-of-day color code: gradients that mimic the sky—from night blues to golden yellows.

That small visual choice changed everything. It made scanning for overlap intuitive.

Then came the idea of time manipulation. I added a slider at the top—drag it and every city’s hour updates in real time. Want to simulate a meeting at 9am in Tokyo? Type it in. The rest shift accordingly.

To personalize things further, I let users rename cities. Now “Berlin” becomes “Sara,” and “Lima” becomes “Luis.” It’s not just about time—it’s about people tied to those different times.

But I didn’t want accounts or sign-ups. So how do you save a setup? The answer: encode it in the URL. Every configuration generates a shareable link. Bookmark it, drop it in Slack, reuse it anytime.

Strategic layer

One challenge I didn’t expect: how to handle more cities or smaller screens. As I iterated, I added responsive behaviors—stacking layouts, adaptive text sizes, and dark/light mode support based on the browser.

These details were small, but they made the tool feel… complete. I called it Timepeek, and released it free for anyone to use.

But here’s where things got interesting. I wasn’t just solving a scheduling problem—I was testing a bigger one.

Outcome + Reflection

A while ago, I built a Notion template for workflow management. It worked well for me, but getting it in front of people was tough. I realized I needed better entry points—products that solve immediate problems, while also serving as gateways to more in-depth tools.

Timepeek became that bridge. A lightweight, zero-barrier tool that helps users now—and quietly promotes other work I’ve done.

Through this small project, I learned something fundamental about scope and focus. It’s tempting to expand your idea endlessly during development. But setting strong product values—simplicity, clarity, usefulness—helped me stay anchored. Each choice had to reinforce the original goal: make scheduling across timezones fast, accessible and a bit more human.

And even if Timepeek doesn’t become the most-used tool in the world, it already serves a purpose: for me, for my collaborators, and as a part of a bigger strategy. It’s a proof-of-concept that connects dots and reduces risk—one small effort feeding a larger vision.

As product makers, we often chase the big idea. But sometimes the most powerful things we create are small, focused tools that solve persistent annoyances.

Think of them not just as solutions—but as seeds. They grow roots, connect to other ideas, and create new paths you hadn’t seen before.