Two Saturdays ago I painted my guest bathroom. That bathroom sports some old, torn carpet that I have no intentions of keeping. So, unlike some of my other painting endeavors, I didn’t have to worry about spreading out drop clothes on the floor. I felt so liberated and uninhibited! At one point I dropped a brush doused in “Delicate Yellow” right smack onto the middle of the carpet. I got to shrug, pick the brush and continue my work. It was so pleasant.
Later in the week, I worked on-site with a customer. There, I work on an old application that another team is currently rewriting in newer technologies. My job is to do just enough maintenance to the old application to keep it meeting the company’s needs until the next version is in place. A new issue surfaced and I worked on updating the code accordingly. I keyed in my logic and started to manipulate an existing variable (changing an ID number to 0 so it would not get picked up later in the process). Then I started to wonder if the code would be more readable if I declared a new Boolean instead.
“Wait a second,” I thought, “This code is going to be dead in 4 months!”
So I got to shrug, keep my variable set to 0, and continue my work. It was so pleasant.
Twice within a couple of days, I stumbled upon the same sensation. In a world where we pursue the latest and greatest– a world where 1 million iPhones sell in 74 days, 153.9 million video game consoles were sold in 2007, and the average new-car buyer trades their vehicle in every 4 years— I found freedom in working with items going obsolete.