Whenever you come in here and interrupt me, you’re breaking my concentration. You’re distracting me. And it will then take me time to get back to where I was. You understand?
My stepfather was an auto body man. He claims that he found his passion during his high school auto body class. After graduating high school, he spent most of his working life beating the dents out of cars. He spent most of his time working for car dealerships. Car dealerships would routinely purchase wrecked cars and hire auto body men to fix the vehicles so that they could in-turn sell the car for a profit. The dealerships would sometimes be able to make a profit of a few thousand per car.
The work was brutal. He worked year round in a shitty body shop with no air conditioning in the summer and kerosene heaters in the winter. Summer time in Kentucky finds temperatures routinely in the 90s and frequently breaking 100°F. The humidity in Kentucky during the summer is so high that a quick walk from the front door of your house to your car in the driveway would leave a thick layer of perspiration on your forehead at 7AM. The winter in Kentucky, while considered mild compared to the northern United States, can still be frigid.
He worked like a dog: forty to forty-five hard hours a week. He was paid hourly. As far as I can recall, he had no benefits. Sick? You’re missing out on pay. Vacation? You’re missing out on pay. He brought home $225 per week. To help make ends meet, he also freelanced on nights and weekends. There was a small detached garage at our house. He would work from 6PM (when he usually arrived home from work) until 9PM (an early night) or until 12AM (a late night). He would also catch up on his freelance work on Saturdays and rarely on Sundays. He tried to save Sundays for his day of rest, which usually involved watching a Winston Cup race.
He was also fortunate enough to be artistically talented. He could charge big money for a custom paint job, sometimes a couple of thousand, depending on the gig. Luckily, there was no shortage of young men who wanted a custom painted car to show off to their friends. Unfortunately, custom paint jobs eat up time. There are hours devoted to drawing out the initial design. Then there is the taping, which can take an entire night. Once the car is taped, the design needs to be drawn out, followed by intricate X-Acto blade work to cut out the pattern. Now you’re ready to paint. There are always many coats involved. And those take time to dry. Many designs require layers of work. It is not uncommon to repeat this process five to ten times for simple designs. If there are any imperfections or bugs (Kentucky summers are a hotbed for mosquitoes and other flying nuisances) the affected area would have to be wet sanded (sanding the painted surface while squeezing a wet sponge over the area), which would smooth out the surface. After all of this, the body still has to be clear coated to give it that protective layer and to make it shine. If done properly, the car will permanently look wet (which was always desired).
My stepfather claims that this was a labor of love. He felt that he was put on this earth to repair auto bodies and to paint them. I feel he was a bit disingenuous. I think his passion was actually art and that his canvas happened to be cars. I believe he repaired auto bodies as a means to an end, to afford him the chance to run his side business so that he could land the custom paint jobs.
I, on the other hand, feel that I was put on this earth to write software. It brings me joy. I have a job writing software. I should be happy about this. And, usually, I am. The issue is that I would like to do more. I would like to learn more. I would like to work on other projects, my own projects. But what do you do when, after working forty hours a week, you are so mentally drained that you can’t force yourself to work on your own projects?
In a manner of speaking, my stepfather had side projects. His side projects kept food on the table and clothes on our back. His side projects were a necessity. I have the luxury of making a very comfortable living in my day job. My side projects are strictly academic or for self advancement. It’s important to note that my side projects are not intended to draw income (although if they did, I wouldn’t be upset). What I have discovered is that passion alone has failed me in my drive to pursue side projects. When I walk into my house I am mentally drained. I want to spend time with my wife. I want to watch television (lately, I’ve been hammering through episodes of Top Gear, British version of course). I want to recuperate. “What about the weekend?”, you might ask. No dice. I’m still tired. I still want to relax and recuperate. But mostly, I want to enjoy my home. I want to take in what Nashville has to offer.
So where does this leave me? Usually agitated. I become irritable about not working on my side projects. If I do find the time and the drive to actually sit in front of my computer, I have rarely left my project in a place where I can quickly pick it back up. Every time I put down one of my projects, I have failed future Todd. I never leave notes for myself so that I know what was happening or where I should go next. If any distractions arise (even something as innocent as my wife wanting to spend time with me) I meet them with an unusually harsh response. I outwardly blame others for my inability to manage my own side projects. “I wish I had more time,“is a common refrain. But there are plenty of other developers who have side projects and they have the same amount of time as I do during a day. So what makes them different? My guess: Planning and priorities.
I would love to give up on side projects, but in my own mind I would feel like a failure for not having them. It seems as though every developer today has their day job and other projects at night onto which they contribute. If I don’t have a side project, am I less of a developer? Probably not. But it feels that way.