The solace of lunch

One of the little comforts in life that I enjoy is going out for lunch. I get something that I like, catch up on my Ars Technica headlines, and usually enjoy some time outside. This has been a routine for me for years, even in prior locales. I just find it relaxing, and a chance to escape anything in my head that's bothering me.

And boy is my head filled with things lately. I don't take the layoff personally, because you really can't when it involved 350 of your friends. But it's disruptive in a non-trivial way because I thought I knew exactly how the next two or three years were going to be. The last time I knew what the next few years would look like was when I started college. I knew that was going to take four years. Now I'm having to adjust when I was so sure about what was next. It's also crazy to see Diana be in the same place for a decade.

The first problem is job hunting, which is the most different that it has ever been in my career. Massive RIF's at big tech companies have flooded the market with people, and AI has broken the system of applying and screening. Instead of getting calls all of the time, recruiters are letting the wave of noise come at them. Interviewing is broken to the extent that it's by committee, and looking for reasons to disqualify someone for the interview, instead of leaning into their experience, ability and recommendations. (I've been in companies where they do this, and it's infuriating as biases creep in and it's more expensive than it has to be to hire.) Even when you can enumerate all that you've created and delivered, they're not looking at that.

I've got a huge runway, financially. I don't take that for granted. But this also creates a lot of math problems for me that I obsess about. I want to get Simon a cheap car, and I want us to continue taking robust vacations while he's with us, though neither seem wise unless I'm working. I also wonder if I have to truly do the tech thing or I can start over and try to get into entertainment work. I probably could, but there are other considerations.

We're meeting my retirement goals in a big way, though to be recession-resistant, that's where I get the idea that three or more years at the rate I was at would help a ton. So I look at what things we could cut, the impact of downsizing and how to bridge any gaps. More than 75% of what we've saved isn't liquid, because of retirement accounts, so milking the other 25% isn't entirely realistic, even in the currently irrational markets. I look at our spending habits over and over, looking at what we could reduce, moderate or cut, but making those adjustments isn't realistic until Simon is on his way. I also don't want to not travel. I don't want to skip substantial donations.

Above all, I feel shitty for even thinking like this, because it's about as first-world elite as it gets. I wouldn't say that it's a privilege, because I've worked my ass off to fix my poor decisions in early adulthood, but I have it good by most measures. I just want to make useful things, and if that's not possible, I want to make art or help people make art. I want to not live in my head all of the time.