Saturday, August 11, 2012

Changing Course

I sift through my pile of unsorted important documents, a stash I've been building and culling since before I left high school. Old bank statements, mobile service contracts, bills. The sorting is such a laborious task; I scan each document for a date, eyes darting from header to footer, paragraph to paragraph.

But every now and then I stop and stare at one of these ordinary pieces of paper as words catch my eye: my high-school yearbook, the written reference from my high-school fast-food job, the sign-up contract for the mobile phone I bought during my first week of university classes. Each memory has been collecting dust, laying unused and dormant while I go on with my post-university life.

I pick up an old birthday card and open the cover. It's from my parents, on my 21st birthday. They wish me luck on a planned overseas trip to the Gold Coast. 21? When was I ever 21? What was it like being 21? I just have to remind myself it's just another number. 21, 22, 23, 24. It feels like the prime years are already beginning to fade, like summer turning to autumn.


What have I done since those exciting and challenging years at University? I've tried to settle into a rhythm of nine-to-five; I've tried to fit in. How is it going? Not great. Life feels like it's flying by at an alarming rate, like there's nothing happening to me that's noteworthy enough to justify even a brief pause. Since graduating from University the days have blurred together. My environment is no longer dynamic; constantly changing lecture schedules, classes and topics have been replaced by a monotonic ebb and flow of daily life. Same office, same co-workers, same project, same technology. Days and weeks are starting to flow into months and years. Like a runaway train steaming towards a precipice, I am acutely aware of the apparent inevitability of my future. I can occasionally catch glimpses of the edge as I steam forward.

I feel like I need to put on the brakes; I need to start regulating my own flow. I need to feel like I'm not just ashes and dust, blowing about in the wind. I need experiences and challenges that bring out the best in me. I need other people to share them with. I need change. I'll admit, I sound pretty needy right now, but I'm not afraid to admit that the one thing I do need is help.

That's why I've started trying to branch out. Rather than continuing along the same path I've been stuck in for the last couple of years, I'm trying to find other people who share my interests in computers, technology, and building things. I've been to a local maker space, and been impressed and excited by the projects other people are working on. I'm looking at joining a sporting club once this cold and miserable winter (ok, all winters are like that) is over; I'm thinking sailing. I'm going to book myself into a community course on woodworking to try and improve my fabrication and crafting skills.

I still don't know what to do as far as employment goes. Lately I've been working on a side-project that uses an Arduino as a radio relay station controller, and I've been able to sink huge amounts of my time into the project without getting bored or frustrated. How can I bring the same kind of enjoyment I get from this side project into my daily work? I think the main appeal of my side projects is just the huge amount of freedom, which is going to be very difficult to get at most day jobs.

Long-term it would be nice to have the following freedoms in my employment:

  • Freedom to choose when I work. I'm most productive first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. That big bit of day in the middle where I'd rather use the precious daylight to go for a run or bike is just a huge write-off.
  • Freedom to choose how I work. Clients shouldn't care whether their solution is an Arduino programmed in C or a 16-core server using Go and OpenCL, as long as it meets the requirements, and solves the defined problem. If interoperability with a certain language is a problem, make it a requirement. And yes, I want to know why you need Java interop.
  • Freedom to choose where I work. Programming is a unique discipline. Team members still need to talk to each other and their superiors or clients: I don't think that always mandates physical meetings. I'd be happy to meet you at a local Cafe to discuss the latest project prototype. I'll be in Auckland next week visiting my parents, but I'll still be getting work done.
I know I'm probably sounding really picky by now, but I feel like these 3 freedoms will help me feel like I am in control of my own life. I want to enjoy the time I spend working; I want to create something amazing and revolutionary; I want to work hard.


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