Upon logging in, I quickly reviewed the notes from last Friday. In my usual bold (and admittedly, not-so-great grammar) style, I had put down the following:

  • Implement cache layer invalidation for the image service
  • Set up a new bucket.
  • Integrate middleware.

I paused, trying to recall the context behind these notes. Slowly, the details began to flood back. I often find myself diving deep into the trenches of a problem. Before I know it, hours have flown by, and there’s this looming sense of urgency, especially with an upcoming meeting ahead; I see Google’s calendar and can already feel how distracted it makes me.

A glance at Slack showed me two unread messages. I also opened my email to find a few unread ones there too.

I made additional notes about where I had left off the task, and as the day progressed, the pressure to complete (at least one) tasks grew. But with back-to-back meetings, the day stretched, making it challenging to return to coding.

Post-meetings, my brain felt like it had run a marathon.

The Next Day

Waking up, I revisited my notes. Some tasks needed completion before evening to avoid blocking subsequent ones. The grind started to get real.

Just as I was about to dive back into coding, an unexpected call pulled me away for one hour.

I need a coffee break.

Returning to my code, I felt disoriented, as if I was looking at an unfamiliar world. Words began to blur, and my focus waned. I decided to wrap up for the day, promising to tackle it tomorrow, seeing ahead a series of calls and mandatory reporting meetings.

Fast Forward

Days passed, and the feature that I initially estimated would take a few hours had now stretched over two days. What the hell was going on?

Those tasks still stared back at me, from an empty sheet of paper:

  • Implement cache layer invalidation for the image service
  • Set up a new bucket
  • Integrate middleware.

Time flew, and another day dawned.

Logging in, I squeezed in some work before my daily meeting. Soon, I received a message asking me for an update since I had informed management that the task would be done by Monday, but it was already Wednesday.

While busy, it took a lot of work to articulate to them what I had accomplished. A few things on my list seemed too minor to mention, yet I couldn’t point to any significant feature I had worked on besides the requirements I had been trying to implement since Monday.

They looked at me with a glance of horror, like asking themselves: Is this the guy we have been trying to hire for a month? Is this the kind of managers we are hiring?

They warn me with a quick note: Finish the task as soon as possible.

Immediately after that, they schedule with me three more mandatory meetings, one of those to celebrate the company’s tenth anniversary.

I decide to shut down my computer; anyways it was Friday by now.

I turn the computer with a company at hand and soft jazz in the background. No rush for any incoming message. No out-of-the-blue meeting. No FOMO.

After a few songs deep into a coding session, I finally made the necessary changes to implement the feature. While weekends are typically off-limits, something is refreshing about coding without distractions.

The serenity of a weekend work session without any immediate external interruption and the nostalgic feeling of always knowing why I choose to go into software in the first place