I became a workaholic.

What else would you call someone who got up at 4:00am on a

Saturday morning and revised his program twice to make it

more robust and flexible after he did it 4 times the

previous day?

 

The environment can change a man's focus. My new workplace

is far from ideal. My boss is bossy and desperate and seems

insecure. (Well. He's new to his job, too.) My colleagues

are typical software engineers stuck in a hole that they

helped digging themselves. A couple of them take things more

seriously and have bigger egos. Within less than two months,

after meeting a few deadlines, I stirred up some unrealistic hopes

from management.

 

Amid all these, I had to say mostly I enjoyed my work.

Vanity may fade but never completely dies, I guess. But

there might be more to it as I did find improving my

understanding of code and coding, i.e., the aha! moments

when data transform to knowledge, felt like being lifted up,

if only for brief periods. Mastering a craft translates to

job/financial security and ultimately survival. I thought I

had got over that basic psychological need. Apparently not.

 

But work hasn't led to the kind of happiness I experienced

when running. The latter is re-creating and makes one sing

Hallelujah; the former taxing and reminds me of "a deliverance

that doesn't deliver." 

 

Have I been healthier? No. My right shoulder has been

improving but not that fast. An old Chinese saying says that

it takes 100 days for the kind of injury. It prevents me from

exertion. Meanwhile, hard work has been addictive and is

taking its toll. One cup of coffee used to keep me alert all

day before this gig. Nowadays, I still feel asleep after

drinking three.

 

I need to come back to the things that connect one to life,

like an astronaut to the space station. I need to keep in

mind that everyone gets an ordinary life and that's good

enough. I have gathered the ingredients. Let's make a new

batch of kimchi today.