I went to college and tried a year of grad school, and then ran off to become an electrician. This is a profitable career but is extremely tough on body; any position within the industry, it is still physical labor. Now, after fifteen years of sacrificing myself "for the big bucks," I am left wondering whether I will be able to fit into a work environment that isn't construction [knowing that I must make this transition].
It is paralyzing fear, and removing this debilitation is hard when people are literally throwing bonkers money at anybody even claiming to be a skilled tradesman, right now — my body is done! The money is good! Whatdo?!
I'm currently "taking time off" and re-exploring a childhood love of computers... learning python, bought a new computer for first time in over a decade... trying to love this all!
And now with all the AI coding and copywriting... UGHHHHH. The timeline, it's just brilliant and perhaps I'll just retire and enjoy a new AI existence =P
No great surprise at all that people checkout and burnout, cause people are not machines.
So I'm attempting to reconcile the reality of modern, corporate software development with the way I derive satisfaction/meaning from my career. Boiled down, my naivete about our relationship with work, which is undoubtedly encouraged and exploited by society, has started to wane, and now I'm trying to uncouple how I get meaning/satisfaction from how I get money.
New years resolutions aren't for me but this year I tried to start loosely viewing things in my life like investments, specifically in terms of ROI. It's more of a reminder of how to think than a spreadsheet. I imagine myself as having an 'energy' budget. Sometimes I spend some energy and I get some back; other times I get nothing in return. As far as my career goes, I need to spend X to get my pay check, which eventually converts to energy. Sometimes I spend X+Y, hoping I get something more, like recognition/education/satisfaction. Sometimes that Y is engaging in a debate in peer review. Sometimes it's trying to anticipate one's manager or "showing initiative". The important thing is to track Y and if there's no return, mark that as a bad investment to be avoided in future. I burned out a couple of years ago because I was spending Y like mad with zero regard for the ROI, or at least with the vague expectation there would be some ROI one day.
Obviously this is not novel, or even a good analogy ("all models wrong; some useful"), but this framing is a (potentially) temporary way to adjust my thinking and behaviour from the brainwashed, single-minded, career-focused, please-notice-me-ceo-daddy track I started out in after school/uni.