Notes - September 25
Most days I woke at 5:30 and loaded a backpack with random heavy objects. Over time that earned me some grief from my wife, who was tired of my disregard for potential bag failure. We had several debates about the structural integrity of rice sacks.
One morning a man passed us on what looked like a stolen bike, wearing a “Department of Corrections” orange suit. My wife was convinced he was an escaped prisoner from the nearby men’s colony. I thought that was absurd. In an age of iPhones and drones, how could that possibly happen? We argued, then dropped it.
A few days later I found the suit in a bush. The tag said it was from the Halloween shop down the road.
This is marriage.
Waiting to cross, 3 dusty semi trucks pass a few feet from us. The fried garlic smell from the Panda Express behind us was so strong I didn’t feel the trucks.
My wife buys stuff from Costco we end up struggling to finish, or return. The argument about it and passive aggressive vibes are not fun, but the worse is having to stare at the thing for an extended period of time. This month it’s been terrible Belgian waffle and I toaster oven. This kind of first world problem is what erode my faith in my ability to keep it together long term. I’m lobbying aggressively against Costco in my household. The value argument is unbeatable. A tough fight against a tired mother whose Costco membership is a pillar of her perceived survival.
My buddy Micheal has been looking for a job. He is not the only one to navigate this odd job market.
He and a lot of classically trained graphic designers have something AI will never have: taste. Some of us love to make things and it’s a shame to see unhealthy staffing practices creep up. There is a lot to design that needs human touch.
Just scroll your LinkedIn feed and you’ll obviously know what I’m talking about. The AI is obvious and most of the time, jarring. We need more designers to wrangle it, not less.
I wore a Stanford football hat for years. People often asked if I went to Stanford, or if I still played. I had to clarify: I bought it at a department store in San Francisco, never played football, never went to college.
In 2017 I spent a month wearing a Mercedes Benz cap a friend gave me at a party. Someone asked what model I drove. I didn’t even have a license.
To avoid hat-related commentary, I tried sticking to plain, generic hats. That only got me more: “Hey! Nice hat!”—from people wearing the exact same one.
These days I wear a beat-up military surplus hat. A few men have asked which base I was stationed at. I explained that I work from home for a tech company. “Ohhh, computer stuff,” one said, surprised.
Many times in grocery stores I said out loud: « that’s not a great looking vegetable, but I shouldn’t say anything, I’ve grown very little edible things and none of them looked or tasted good ».
All the men working in a nearby construction site are way over 50 years old, even the hispanic ones. There’s always someone that wants to say hi to us as we stare at the ballet of tractors. Today it’s a guy jokingly saying that I my son should consider a career as heavy equipment operator. It’s not even the first time I hear this. “We’re all gonna be gone soon, they can’t replace us with a computer unfortunately” - that last piece, I never heard before IRL.
Going downhill on a steep trail while carrying my tired and cranky toddler, I’m babbling trying to distract us. A guy hiking up enthusiastically shouts at us: “Damn dawg! Dad of the year! This one’s a bruiser!”. I rode this vibe all the way down, kiddo loved it too.
My wife doesn’t want to hear the term “damn” because it is not socially acceptable in our (assumably Christian) countryside. We’ve successfully overwritten it with “dang”. It did so for myself too which sounds more disrespectful IMO.
For me, fatigue act as a social lubricant
Another sunset over a dusty construction site. A great image of my 10 years in California. Almost perfect. There’s always something in the foreground that messes the picture. When it’s not work thoughts blocking the sensor.
Just like that limitless drug, I like to think THC hits me hard because I’m such a crank.
As I answer a few messages after hours to get them out of my mind, I’m reminded of my 1 year old at the beach rubbing his eyes with his hands full of sand.
Jitter.video is really neat.
While debating the merits of the theory of Karma, my wife said that its weird basis is very compatible with my worldview — a hodgepodge of wack theories about the Universe.
Spot on. I think that also describes very well all the holy books. Base on this great analysis, my version is a weirdo pagan mix with many little deities and contexts.
After a month rich on experimentation fails, I now see what all moderate Marijuana enthusiasts mean by “get high on your own supply, it’s more sustainable”.
In 5min we went from an innocent question “would we go more places if we had a nicer car?” to “nah let’s just buy the neighbors bike trailer”
A poorly groomed young man with a baby in the cart gets in line with a lot of stuff. The clerk at the register is an equally rough looking lady, much older. She seems to recognize him, not in a friendly way. I know her, she is not to anyone.
She told him that he was supposed to bag his stuff. She did it as he was on his phone. He asked for her name and said she was rude before leaving with a passive aggressive smile.
I just realized the guy was an instacart shopper. That explains the friction.
It was no one’s fault but Tech. The people that have to resort to “work” for instacart and those who have to deal with them have little responsibility.
When the lady asked me if she sounded rude I told her that she did better than I would not have done better than her. She looked unfazed. She clearly had, and has bigger challenges in her life. She only smiled when I told her than giving up getting my own groceries was too much loss of autonomy for my taste. « I guess it make sense for working moms » she said.
The costs, benefits, and nature of these gig services are skewed by marketing it is impossible to make sense of it. Because it makes no sense.
I need to change phone but I don’t want to.
My company paid for it. So now I have to deal with a snappy bubbly, glassy mess.
Finding a case is an agony too.
My buddy M has been looking for a job. He is not the only one to navigate this odd job market.
He and a lot of classically trained graphic designers have something AI will never have: taste. Some of us love to make things and it’s a shame to see unhealthy staffing practices creep up. There is a lot to design that needs human touch.
Just scroll your any social feed and you’ll obviously know what I’m talking about. The AI is obvious and most of the time, jarring. We need more designers to wrangle it, not less.
I iced sore and tight muscles properly for the first time.
I hate my stupid Fitbit charge 5 but I appreciate how simple it is compared to literally all the other options. It’s so ugly and ergonomically awful, it’s the software that and overall durability that keeps me.
I hear that every wearables nowadays are swindling user into a subscription. That make sense considering the volume of data, there’s a bill to pay. My crappy Fitbit has one too but the free satisfy my needs. I guess Google can afford to bankroll a free tier, at least for now.
I just want a step count, time asleep and resting heart rate. Accuracy doesn’t matter. I use the datapoints to check my own assessment. Most of the time it matches. I know when I’m tired, I just need a gadget to confirm. Meanwhile I don’t want to be tempted by a fancy watch face while sitting on the toilet.
Over the last decade I’ve been open to all things “mindfulness”. I’m a fidgety monkey, pure meditation or yoga didn’t cut it for me. It took me a while to stall away as the niche became mainstream.
Most traditions have some kind of hand fixation—something to fidget with—as a nod to the mind-body link. I wanted my own version: not tacky, not religious. I tried various “totems.” Nothing stuck. Except beads.
That’s how I found aroundsquare, a niche company selling (among other things) a titanium bead bracelet inspired by traditional mala. A modern take. Meant to be handled, or “played with,” as they call it.
I’m not a fan of their overall art direction, but the material quality and simplicity are undeniably appealing. Years ago I went cheap and bought a wooden version. Liked it so much I spun up my own version: presence.supply. Turns out there are plenty of monkeys out there who also want fancy metal to keep their hands busy.
The other day my youngest lost my original bracelet at the beach. He was holding it while napping in the carrier. I was on my phone. The tide took it.
Titanium is hard to machine, good rope non-trivial to source. I’m tempted to reboot the project, but it feels wrong. Someone’s already doing it, and doing it extremely well. So I paid for the fancy titanium one from aroundsquare.
The texture of a blasted 10mm titanium MK Ultra is delightful: perfectly weighted, neatly understated. I’m forming a connection with these things. I never thought I’d care about this type of stuff. I’m mildly ashamed. It captures my twitchy fingers and doubles as an excellent baby toy.
Brevity and me rarely sit at the same table.
I read N short essays regularly. I smell the influence of Tech: short, inquisitive and inspirational tone. Tech elites shoving their techno optimism under pretentious prose written for LinkedIn. But of course some of it is relatable. I’m torn between form and substance. Ultimately the medium is the message, and I’m grossed out.
LinkedIn is one of these places where I’d prefer not to be but has made itself mandatory to any tech worker. Or maybe I’m not bold enough to delete my account.
The look on my kids face when I asked if they’re OK while in the middle of traffic, on the bike, at the red light is the same as the one on my face when my wife asked me if I’m OK at 5 PM.
I once shat on Real estate, swore to never own a house and fall for the ownership vanity. I now own a house and worked for a prop tech company.
I once shat on react because it was over engineered for web design (to a certain extent I still do). Now I work for a react framework company.
I have read a few people hammering a basic fact that most seem to have forgotten:
«LLMs are still just generating statistically plausible output given a particular input, without regard for understanding what’s underneath» - AI won’t «just work».
I can’t imagine AI, or any technology, making anyone work less or better. It will just be different.
When you finally get out of your head, it’s a bit disconcerting. So much so that it makes you want to milk life for some more drama.” (Ram Dass)
I felt exactly that after a hectic month. Overstimulated, I lost a lot of focus in front of the screen milking the new/fun job dopamine. I confused fatigue for loss of interest. AI, politics, random BS… digital fatigue is building up.
My wife shared an old journal entry—something she very rarely does. The depth, volume, and prose were an immediate reminder of how much of a bozo I am. Again: the medium is the message. This blog, however polished or half-suppressed, is still just a blog. A faint attempt at connection, tossing things into the void.
The tangents are many. Hobbies, rabbit holes, ideas. I know too many people interested in too many things. My wife’s remarks the luxury it is to be able to dabble. She also knows the frustration and accumulation. So do I. When thinking about I’m mostly left with an uncomfortable blur. Waste of time, resources, not much appreciation and bummed for seemingly inevitable upcoming similar attempts. Writing and design project are on top of that list for me.
I wonder how much of my fatigue comes from this generalized enthusiasm—probably a lot, and inversely, it yields very little insight. I’m not only in the world; I’m of it. Blogging, and writing in general, seems to be the catalyst for conceptualization, carried along by the pressure that “you gotta make something.”
So maybe an undetermined hiatus is what I need to restore a quiet inner life.
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