Managing Yourself: An Underrated Skill
I’m deep in the weeds with Diskernet, this project that’s got so much potential it’s practically begging to be something big. It’s a tool for snagging web content offline, like your own pocket internet. But man, it’s buggy—startup flow’s spitting out debug messages like it’s got something to prove, the archive repair’s asking me to fix stuff that might not even be there, and getting it to run smooth on Windows, macOS, Linux ARM, x64? That’s a fight. I want to clean it up, get a subscription model on it, make it solid. Got a week to make moves, and the old me would’ve just floored it, coding till I dropped. But I know better now—that’s a one-way ticket to nowhere.
Back when I was at a national research institute, I’d park myself at the computer, black coffee in hand, and just grind. Graphics projects, 3 p.m. to 11 p.m., hammering away till it worked. I thought I was killing it. But that pace was doing me dirty—anxiety I never had before, stress that stuck around, maybe some burnout creeping in. I was young, thought my body could just take it. Now I’m 42, and I’m feeling the cost. Software’s intense, man—it’s all in your head, looping back on itself, and if you don’t watch it, you’ll burn out faster than you can say “segfault.”
Diskernet’s got me feeling that overwhelm now. Every bug’s like a little jab, every task stacks up like a pile of unclosed tickets. It’s a lot, but I’m not trying to wreck myself. I’m the only one on this—if I go down, the project’s done. So I’m taking it slow, one thing at a time. First, that startup flow’s gotta be clean, no more debug spam, just straight-up choices: load, shut down, install, boom. Then, stability—making sure it runs on Windows, macOS, Linux, all the architectures. After that, polish the UI, get the licensing in. No crazy sprints, just steady work.
I’m also looking out for myself. Eating real food, not just scarfing down whatever’s handy—an orange here, waiting for dinner there. When the stress hits, you can try something like box breathing, where you breathe in, hold, out, hold, four seconds each, like tracing a square. It’s a solid way to chill out. I’m feeding my thoughts into AI tools to spit out to-do lists, so I’m not carrying all that noise in my head. It’s like offloading half my brain to something that doesn’t get overwhelmed.
This isn’t just about Diskernet. It’s about BrowserBox, too, which is rock-solid at 11.1.10 but still hustling for its crowd. It’s about every project that pulls at you. When you’re young, you think you can take the hits—late nights, no breaks, just code. But that’s not how it works long-term. Places like Mayo Clinic say long hours mess with your health, body and mind. I’ve felt it—stresses I didn’t have in my 20s, anxiety that showed up out of nowhere. I’m done with that, and I don’t want it for the next wave of coders.
If I were passing on what I know, I’d tell new devs: treat yourself like your code. Refactor when you’re all tangled up, update when you’re out of sync, keep the maintenance going. You can keep coding at 60, like some badass mathematician, if you play it smart. Software’s a long game, not a quick win. It’s about staying in it, keeping that fire burning. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m all in—for me, for my projects, for the work that keeps me going.