Behind the scenes

Honestly, if I'm being real, life is a new state of who you used to be before coming back.

When everyone needs something from you. Everyone wants something. Everyone tugs at you. Constantly distracts you.

And all you want is one thing — you need to focus. Pick what matters. And do it. Just do something.

Because under the flood of tasks and the volume of distractions you start blanking out — not because you can't think, but because there's just too much of it. And once you've gone into development, and production depends on you on top of everything — it's all ×10 instantly.

First, you have a massive number of bugs that crawl out in the weirdest ways. Second, you have a hysterical client. And his assistants, who are completely incapable of explaining what they want.

In parallel you've got other projects you supposedly haven't dropped and sometimes want to remember. And you've got production, which whether you like it or not, you're going to break.

Because all these neural nets very often drift off course. And they do dumb shit.

And you're at the center of all this chaos. Just trying to focus on what matters most. Cut off the noise.

But the client can't even articulate what he needs. And sometimes he doesn't know himself what he needs. And the neural nets also forget what they're supposed to do.

And you're like: ok. This isn't about you switching off your brain. This is about the fact that if even you forget what you need right now, the whole thing falls apart.

It's basically about managing chaos.

And you start to understand all those programmer slogans about "don't touch it if it works." You understand that everything can be improved infinitely. And you understand that when, say, prod goes down, and clients start calling saying they can't place an order — that's money.

You can't explain this to a neural net.

No matter how many exclamation marks you throw in — it doesn't care. Prod is down or not — it'll just tell you:

no, no, everything's fine over there, nothing of yours is down, I checked, I looked, I'm sure, want me to prove it?

And then in that exact moment your girlfriend calls. Or a friend. Or even your mom.

"Sweetheart, where did you disappear to? Why aren't you eating?"

And you're like: fuck. Now eating too. Spending time on that as well.

Or your girlfriend starts telling you about some tangled drama you can't even wrap your head around.

You sit there with two screens in front of you, trying to peck at buttons at the same time, and this is every day.

And it doesn't stop. It's not going anywhere.

I'm not saying it's not interesting. I'm saying it's just a different kind of thinking.

You learn to filter information out. Learn to focus on what's essential. Learn to recognize what's essential. Learn to set priorities. And not freeze up when something goes sideways.

Because the client, for some reason, thinks that if he yells louder, you'll understand him better. Or if he stomps his foot harder, things will get done faster.

And as for sleep — you can pretty much forget about it. You really sleep 3–4 hours. You constantly wake up because new solutions pop into your head.

And the whole thing reassembles itself again. And you can't fall back asleep, because you know how it should be done right.

You just reach for the computer. Sit down. Do it.

And the funniest part — you don't feel like sleeping. You don't get tired. You're enjoying it.

You're riding this vibe. You've kind of caught the wave. And it just flows.

Sometimes you forget yourself and start arguing with the neural nets. Start talking to them like they're people. And the funniest part — sometimes they answer you in the same register.

This isn't about your talent. It's not about you being some gifted person.

It's more about the ability to navigate chaos. A skill that only shows up when there's no way out.