Buildings fall down eventually, too.

Worth remembering we write code to create human value. Somewhere, in some way, your elegant code actually ran and did a thing that led some number of humans to be enabled or understand or somehow be affected by it.

I've gradually come to a similar conclusion. The only antidote is to make sure the work you're most proud of are all open source. It's most likely going to be code you wrote in your spare time.

My GitHub has a few pieces of code that I'm really proud of. And some companies actually ask for code I'm proud of as part of the interview process, so I have that ready and it helps.

That’s okay, the only person that cares about your legacy of code is you. Be proud that you’re capable of the work, not that you have a commit history when no one is asking for that.

Personally, I find this aspect of the work somewhat profound.

My graveyard of projects and dreams stretches out behind me and I feel saddened to know that these articles representing portions of my life never achieved what I had hoped for them.

However, I've come to view my work like a mandala or some representation of our mortality itself; our works and our lives are temporary.

We can make the most of the brief moment that we have – whether that be through work or through parenting or through base jumping – whatever that may be for each of us, or we can choose to do nothing with that moment, knowing that it's ephemeral and will be gone soon anyway.

I choose to try making each day's the best code I have ever written; I want it to be "beautiful" and maintainable in spite of knowing that it will be refactored, deleted or decommissioned at some point.

Amen to this. Of the biggest frustrations I've had in my career, at the top of the list is working with engineers who do not take pride in their craft. I'm amazed at the number of people that just dial it in or make minimal effort. Perhaps some of these people are burned-out, but surely not all.

My goal was to get whatever I was working on not just "done", but "done-done". To a state where, if I walked away, it could live on in a working manner and be easily maintained by someone else. That meant having good test coverage, up-to-date documentation, instructions on how to get started with the repo, notes on dependencies, etc. Sometimes that someone else is future me, six months or six years later.

I experienced burnout early in my career, in the dot-com era, and it became especially acute when then the bubble burst. All those long hours (mostly) for naught.

The best times were at companies where everyone was all-in and we each had each-others back. Rare, but amazing when it happens. These were all at startups.

It’s ironic that the absolute shittiest code I’ve ever written right when I came out of university, has been and still is powering a bunch of company websites for 15 years.

My oldest code still in production is 20 years old.

Work for non tech companies if you want it to last. Some industrial code is even older - my company has just removed some devices that requires a floppy disk to update