I’ve been thinking about how to plan not just a large development project, but multiple large development projects together on a timeline and allow for interrupt work.
We’ve managed to put together a roadmap for the next fiscal year. It looks nice, and it conveys useful information for our plan for the year. But it has some flaws, and I’ve been mentally taking a step back to try to understand the purpose of having a roadmap, and what useful results it feeds.
One thing we’re learning as we stay home during C19 is that “if we only had the time” isn’t real. I think it’s one of the unexpected more depressing aspects of this whole situation.
When provided with the “opportunity” of “spare time” to work on those things that we’ve always wanted to get done, we’re not actually doing any more of them than we ever did. Having no place to be on Monday, Tuesday, or Thursday evenings like we usually would doesn’t re-open those evenings for other productive activities.
There’s a lot going on right now. I’ve been focused on getting my blog back up and running the way I want, and it’s still not there yet, but at least I feel comfortable now making some updates. Frankly, I’ve needed an outlet for long-form writing for a while now, especially during this, and I’ve been considering this softare issue a blocker. Yeah, I know it looks like everything has been working all this time, and no, it hasn’t quite.
Two weeks ago, I was on a trip to Columbus for work. The Coronavirus had just peeked its head out in China (and also the US, although people seem to have forgotten or ignored that) and we were starting to talk about whether it was a good idea to travel or not.
A month or so ago, I took a walk around the neighborhood with Berta, as we often do after dinner when there's still light out and the heat isn't overbearing. These walks often contain what feels like awkward silence, or rather, they would if I would ever shut up. For whatever reason, regardless of the breathlessness the pace and incline induces on my completely out-of-shape and asthmatic self, I can't help but take the opportunity to fill the silence with some chatter. At some point, I'll have to ask Berta if she feels this is my habit and whether she'd rather walk silently, since although she does contribute, I feel like she'd rather just walk with her thoughts unpolluted.
Anyway, it was on this one walk when I found myself resisting the urge to offer the usual rhetorical diarrhea, and instead focused on some of my own internal contemplation. It was actually a really nice day, I remember. The temperature was just what you'd want in an early summer evening. The sky was not cloudless, but full of colorful pink and purple twilight-lit clouds. No cars on the road and a gentle, comfortable breeze.
I've been thinking lately about what my ideal, realistic job might be, and what concessions I might make to get close to that job. I'm going to just spew those ideas here, in no particular order.
My ideal job would have a corporate office close to home, and have the ability to work from home on days when it would be preferable to have focused solitude away from the office or necessary to participate in home activities, like A/C installation or other home maintenance. "The office" would be in a building that is not a soulless corporate center building filled with sterile cubicles and Ikea-Lego desks, but would have some character all its own -- something you would enjoy showing off to family and other people in the industry, who would envy your daily environs. It would be a place you would look forward to going. And yet, the company would be flexible enough to let you work completely remotely for months at a time, for whatever reason. As opposed to the sentiment I hear a lot where people who work remotely come into the office and learn to like coming into the office, I'd like the sentiment to be more one where the office is just one of many potential tools that builds team cohesion.