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Ten year plan, retrospective
Here's a little list of plans I wrote down, a year after I moved to Oakland in 2011, titled "where I want to be in six months:"
A whole lot of things have happened in the subsequent ten years, of course, but I feel like it would be interesting to skip over all that just now and compare my current medium-term plans with my plans from ten years ago. Here goes:
Have all my debts squared away:
This one got smashed out of the park, almost entirely by one thing: In 2011 I was filled with seething resentment that my fancy computer-geek income was being handed over to non-geek landlords, and that resentment sent me into the shark-filled pit of the post-recovery real estate market. I clawed my way out with the deed to a duplex, then jumped energetically into the problems and learning process of being both a landlord and a homeowner.
I feel incredibly grateful to my past self that I sought out people who could give good advice, earned their friendship, and then listened intently to every piece of advice they could give. Top among my names here is Adam Seller, a long-time local landlord who, by my tough standards, manages the difficult feat of being a landlord and not being evil at the same time. I cribbed my communication style, my priorities, and large chunks of my lease and other paperwork, directly from him -- with permission.
It's true that I'm on the hook for a six-figure mortgage, but it's also true that the house is definitely worth more than the mortgage, so ... technically I am no longer in debt. I haven't been since about 2015.
I want to be significantly progressed on my fitness goals.
This goal has been a mixed bag. I'm definitely not as energetic as I used to be. Ten years ago it was pretty easy to stay in shape, whereas now it takes constant effort to steer away from over-eating and make sure I move around. I've thoroughly learned the value of environmental tweaks: Not bringing big tubs of ice cream into the house. Making it easy to get my bike out the door, so I never need to use the car. Still, I need to put more effort into this.
Over and over in life, I've noticed something that makes me just a little bit furious every time: People who are in good physical shape, and dress to show it off, get all kinds of tiny social advantages in situations that have absolutely zero to do with physical prowess. I know I can't erase this behavior from humanity: It's too deeply wired. I also know that I can - and do - take advantage of the way I look, to get attention or be left alone, and with the ebb and flow of my own life situation I've sometimes resigned myself to spending time exercising and avoiding calories just for how it changes the way I look. The trouble is, every time I do this it feels like I'm taking a little sip of emotional and self-esteem poison. The only way to avoid this poison is to design my life so the exercise happens as a side-effect of something with actual meaning.
For example, right now I can't go into the office because of COVID, which means I do not officially have a commute. But I do need to keep riding my bike. So I've constructed an artificial commute, where I pack a folding chair and a stack of batteries, then ride up to the Cal campus, which happens to be 4 miles away and 300 feet up from my house. The chair and the batteries add weight.
There's no technical reason why I can't just stay home and work, then go riding up the hill and down again as part of a separate "exercise hour" every day. But there's a part of me that hates the senseless nature of that, and I would rapidly lose interest. I'd probably sit in the back yard meditating in the sun instead, and while that would be fine for my emotional and spiritual well-being, my body would suffer.
I want to have a routine where I attend or host a dinner party every couple of weeks to eat and play games with like-minded friends.
This has mostly been a fail. I haven't bothered to assemble a local-enough set of friends who would all attend a clockwork dinner party. It's a matter of motivation. I know it would benefit my well being, but instead I get by with more occasional visits to friends and family elsewhere, and get my dinner parties from them. Meanwhile, the meals at my house have been mostly two-person events, chatting happily with a significant other. I can only conclude that dinner parties are less important to me than I thought.
I want to have my house organized just the way I want it.
This has mostly worked out. Actually the only exception happened because I moved out of my house entirely to go traveling, and split up all my possessions between three other people's houses in the meantime. And that was what I wanted, so it probably isn't an exception.
I want to be living with someone I am madly in love with, or living on my own:
Well, I did pose this as an either-or question. I'm living on my own right now, and enjoying it despite COVID times, though it's honestly not the outcome I would have expected or preferred. I get the feeling it will change in due time.
The person I want to be with, whatever their other traits, will work to live, rather than living to work.
I want a solidified work routine where I get one day as a work-from-home day. Alternate mondays and fridays would be ideal, so I can take four-day weekends every other week.
The last ten years have been split between two companies, and both have been located less than two miles from my house. It takes 15 minutes by bike each way. No gas, no parking fees, no traffic jams, regardless of when I leave. I have not been delayed by an accident, or by missing a bus or a train, even once in ten years. The commute is so short that I don't even need to change clothes unless it's raining.
Back in 2011 I had no idea an arrangement like this was possible. At the time my commute was to ride a folding bike to a Bart station, cram the bike into the luggage bay of an enormous bus, and then ride in stop-and-go traffic breathing recycled air mixed with exhaust fumes for almost two hours, each way. It always gave me a headache and upset my stomach, but I had no choice, because if I missed the bus I would have to wait several hours for the next one and my meeting schedule would be destroyed.
So, no, I didn't get a "work-from-home" day ... but I never asked for one either. The bicycle commute gave me so much of my own time back it stopped mattering. Somewhere I did a calculation of how many hours it's saved me, over the last decade. Let me try and recreate that with rough numbers. An hour a day, times five days per week, times about 48 working weeks in a year factoring in vacations, times ten years, divided by 18 waking hours... So by riding a bike to work I've had an entire 133 days worth of time doing whatever I wanted. That's impressive.
COVID has thrown those numbers a little off kilter, since I wouldn't be going to the office in any case, but I think the point is still made.
I want to know what's important to me.
My priorities have most definitely shifted. I'm no longer obsessed with my financial situation. I no longer prioritize raw passion over stability in romantic relationships. I'm a lot more politically engaged than I was before. I'm also no longer willing to put my career at the center of my life, like I had been doing for years in 2011.
I've done some stuff. Work for a small company? Check. Startup? Check. Big tech? Check. Awarded for a conference presentation? Check. Author of published research? Check. Name in shipping software? Check. Five-year plaque? Check. MVP of the year award at a company? Check. Granted a patent? Check. Worked in the midst of developing the most successful product in human freaking history? Check.
There is still so much inspiring stuff to do, but I no longer feel that sense of desperate hunger for accomplishment -- for distinguishing myself. I understand how high the cost of giving my life to a job can be. I am also comfortable enough that I can afford to be selective. I can look for what really grabs me, not just what promises greater money, more power, or bigger impact for its own sake.
This change has been the most clear to me in the last two years, when I became romantically entangled with several people whose identity and thoughts were built almost completely around their career. Their routine, their home, the shape of their hobbies -- all were in service of giving them the stamina to do their job. It was all they wanted to talk about over dinner. It was who they were. Subtract the career and what was left? Books, yoga, and produce, mostly. Small things designed to push at that gigantic flywheel of job energy and keep it spinning.
I'm not that kind of person any more. Nor can I be a partner to, or a support to, someone who is like that. There's more dignity in being single. (And less concern about being suddenly thrown under the bus when some problem you're having is an inconvenient drag on their career energy.) No, if I do build a life and routine and home with someone else, it needs to be for more than a career, and it needs to be for more than self indulgent travel and culture. It would have to be in support of a family structure: My kids - her kids - our kids - blood-related or otherwise. There needs to be family.
My interest in being connected to my family has grown a lot. In ten years I've become way more involved in the lives of my nephews, and that has been a great experience. I have various plans to grow that even more.
This has been an interesting exercise for me. I like the relative shape of my current near-term plans -- the way they've evolved. I think it's time to add some more detail to them.
- I want to have all my debts squared away.
- I want to be significantly progressed on my fitness goals.
- I want to have a routine where I attend or host a dinner party every couple of weeks to eat and play games with like-minded friends.
- I want to have my house organized just the way I want it.
- I want to be either living with someone I am madly in love with, or living on my own.
- I want a solidified work routine where I get one day as a work-from-home day. Alternate mondays and fridays would be ideal, so I can take four-day weekends every other week.
- I want to know what's important to me.
A whole lot of things have happened in the subsequent ten years, of course, but I feel like it would be interesting to skip over all that just now and compare my current medium-term plans with my plans from ten years ago. Here goes:
Have all my debts squared away:
This one got smashed out of the park, almost entirely by one thing: In 2011 I was filled with seething resentment that my fancy computer-geek income was being handed over to non-geek landlords, and that resentment sent me into the shark-filled pit of the post-recovery real estate market. I clawed my way out with the deed to a duplex, then jumped energetically into the problems and learning process of being both a landlord and a homeowner.
I feel incredibly grateful to my past self that I sought out people who could give good advice, earned their friendship, and then listened intently to every piece of advice they could give. Top among my names here is Adam Seller, a long-time local landlord who, by my tough standards, manages the difficult feat of being a landlord and not being evil at the same time. I cribbed my communication style, my priorities, and large chunks of my lease and other paperwork, directly from him -- with permission.
It's true that I'm on the hook for a six-figure mortgage, but it's also true that the house is definitely worth more than the mortgage, so ... technically I am no longer in debt. I haven't been since about 2015.
I want to be significantly progressed on my fitness goals.
This goal has been a mixed bag. I'm definitely not as energetic as I used to be. Ten years ago it was pretty easy to stay in shape, whereas now it takes constant effort to steer away from over-eating and make sure I move around. I've thoroughly learned the value of environmental tweaks: Not bringing big tubs of ice cream into the house. Making it easy to get my bike out the door, so I never need to use the car. Still, I need to put more effort into this.
Over and over in life, I've noticed something that makes me just a little bit furious every time: People who are in good physical shape, and dress to show it off, get all kinds of tiny social advantages in situations that have absolutely zero to do with physical prowess. I know I can't erase this behavior from humanity: It's too deeply wired. I also know that I can - and do - take advantage of the way I look, to get attention or be left alone, and with the ebb and flow of my own life situation I've sometimes resigned myself to spending time exercising and avoiding calories just for how it changes the way I look. The trouble is, every time I do this it feels like I'm taking a little sip of emotional and self-esteem poison. The only way to avoid this poison is to design my life so the exercise happens as a side-effect of something with actual meaning.
For example, right now I can't go into the office because of COVID, which means I do not officially have a commute. But I do need to keep riding my bike. So I've constructed an artificial commute, where I pack a folding chair and a stack of batteries, then ride up to the Cal campus, which happens to be 4 miles away and 300 feet up from my house. The chair and the batteries add weight.
There's no technical reason why I can't just stay home and work, then go riding up the hill and down again as part of a separate "exercise hour" every day. But there's a part of me that hates the senseless nature of that, and I would rapidly lose interest. I'd probably sit in the back yard meditating in the sun instead, and while that would be fine for my emotional and spiritual well-being, my body would suffer.
I want to have a routine where I attend or host a dinner party every couple of weeks to eat and play games with like-minded friends.
This has mostly been a fail. I haven't bothered to assemble a local-enough set of friends who would all attend a clockwork dinner party. It's a matter of motivation. I know it would benefit my well being, but instead I get by with more occasional visits to friends and family elsewhere, and get my dinner parties from them. Meanwhile, the meals at my house have been mostly two-person events, chatting happily with a significant other. I can only conclude that dinner parties are less important to me than I thought.
I want to have my house organized just the way I want it.
This has mostly worked out. Actually the only exception happened because I moved out of my house entirely to go traveling, and split up all my possessions between three other people's houses in the meantime. And that was what I wanted, so it probably isn't an exception.
I want to be living with someone I am madly in love with, or living on my own:
Well, I did pose this as an either-or question. I'm living on my own right now, and enjoying it despite COVID times, though it's honestly not the outcome I would have expected or preferred. I get the feeling it will change in due time.
The person I want to be with, whatever their other traits, will work to live, rather than living to work.
I want a solidified work routine where I get one day as a work-from-home day. Alternate mondays and fridays would be ideal, so I can take four-day weekends every other week.
The last ten years have been split between two companies, and both have been located less than two miles from my house. It takes 15 minutes by bike each way. No gas, no parking fees, no traffic jams, regardless of when I leave. I have not been delayed by an accident, or by missing a bus or a train, even once in ten years. The commute is so short that I don't even need to change clothes unless it's raining.
Back in 2011 I had no idea an arrangement like this was possible. At the time my commute was to ride a folding bike to a Bart station, cram the bike into the luggage bay of an enormous bus, and then ride in stop-and-go traffic breathing recycled air mixed with exhaust fumes for almost two hours, each way. It always gave me a headache and upset my stomach, but I had no choice, because if I missed the bus I would have to wait several hours for the next one and my meeting schedule would be destroyed.
So, no, I didn't get a "work-from-home" day ... but I never asked for one either. The bicycle commute gave me so much of my own time back it stopped mattering. Somewhere I did a calculation of how many hours it's saved me, over the last decade. Let me try and recreate that with rough numbers. An hour a day, times five days per week, times about 48 working weeks in a year factoring in vacations, times ten years, divided by 18 waking hours... So by riding a bike to work I've had an entire 133 days worth of time doing whatever I wanted. That's impressive.
COVID has thrown those numbers a little off kilter, since I wouldn't be going to the office in any case, but I think the point is still made.
I want to know what's important to me.
My priorities have most definitely shifted. I'm no longer obsessed with my financial situation. I no longer prioritize raw passion over stability in romantic relationships. I'm a lot more politically engaged than I was before. I'm also no longer willing to put my career at the center of my life, like I had been doing for years in 2011.
I've done some stuff. Work for a small company? Check. Startup? Check. Big tech? Check. Awarded for a conference presentation? Check. Author of published research? Check. Name in shipping software? Check. Five-year plaque? Check. MVP of the year award at a company? Check. Granted a patent? Check. Worked in the midst of developing the most successful product in human freaking history? Check.
There is still so much inspiring stuff to do, but I no longer feel that sense of desperate hunger for accomplishment -- for distinguishing myself. I understand how high the cost of giving my life to a job can be. I am also comfortable enough that I can afford to be selective. I can look for what really grabs me, not just what promises greater money, more power, or bigger impact for its own sake.
This change has been the most clear to me in the last two years, when I became romantically entangled with several people whose identity and thoughts were built almost completely around their career. Their routine, their home, the shape of their hobbies -- all were in service of giving them the stamina to do their job. It was all they wanted to talk about over dinner. It was who they were. Subtract the career and what was left? Books, yoga, and produce, mostly. Small things designed to push at that gigantic flywheel of job energy and keep it spinning.
I'm not that kind of person any more. Nor can I be a partner to, or a support to, someone who is like that. There's more dignity in being single. (And less concern about being suddenly thrown under the bus when some problem you're having is an inconvenient drag on their career energy.) No, if I do build a life and routine and home with someone else, it needs to be for more than a career, and it needs to be for more than self indulgent travel and culture. It would have to be in support of a family structure: My kids - her kids - our kids - blood-related or otherwise. There needs to be family.
My interest in being connected to my family has grown a lot. In ten years I've become way more involved in the lives of my nephews, and that has been a great experience. I have various plans to grow that even more.
This has been an interesting exercise for me. I like the relative shape of my current near-term plans -- the way they've evolved. I think it's time to add some more detail to them.
Games & Dinner Parties
Well me and my best friend discussed this idea for YEARS and it never came to fruition because she doesn't have friends who play games and my friends who play games don't like to cross the bridge! Let alone go through the tunnel to her place. Not to mention at my age everyone has a life already and doesn't want to add more routine. I gave up on the idea years ago because if was going to happen it would have, already.
Also my place is too small for gaming and dinner partying. And honestly as much as I dream of a bigger place for entertaining. I lean towards the European/Asian small house thinking. It forces you out of the house into public more to meet up with people. It is also very conducive to less hoarding and consumerism in some ways.
Re: Games & Dinner Parties