…I’ve moved all my software-development posts over to my new software-development blog, where I’m currently in the midst of a series chronicling my evaluation of Perl 6.

At least since the mid 2000’s, when I wrote about software, I tried to keep it popular, non-techie, or at least about the culture rather than the coding. On my new SD blog, I am no longer afraid to use lots of code snippets. And I’ve taken to publishing sample code on GitHub.

Last night, I brought my elder daughter to her fourth sleep study, but the first that I’d seen her to. Sleep apnea runs in the family, and the Missus suspects that I have it, too. One thing is certain, that I haven’t been sleeping well, and I’ve been perpetually tired. Sleep problems could even be a cause of my depression. So Margaret convinced my doctor to recommend a sleep study for me as well. Last night, I got to see what I’m in for this coming Friday.

I’ve been updating my software-development résumé, trying some different things in hopes of finding a reasonably productive SD gig. Along the way, I think I may rub a few people wrong, but I think it’s for the best. Because it’s the only way I know to ultimately accomplish my goals.

There’s something about the truly great accomplishments in my life that sets them apart from all the others: they were preceded by devastatingly tough times. One such accomplishment, of course, was meeting my wife Margaret. Before that, I dated girls who were bound to cause me heartbreak; I pursued girls that were bound to make me miserable; when I did meet a nice girl who could make me happy, I was sure to sabotage it (or ignore her). I spent 10 years in heartache after heartache, depression after depression.

But as many times as I swore off girls forever, I continued to play the sucker for the next pretty face that came along. Why? Because there’s an instinctive drive, deep in the heart of a man, that compels him to love a woman. Time and again, that drive forced me on and kept me trying again and again, until I found something that worked.

When the answer finally came, it was so simple, I wondered why I hadn’t discovered it before.

This came at an significant time for me, because I too have been working on a project that is quite painful for me. It’s painful, because I saw the disaster coming, because I warned about it, because I was ignored, and because now I need to be reminded (despite the innuendo of the manager on the project) that it isn’t my fault, because indeed it isn’t my fault. As a fellow developer reminded me, at every point, I was reasonable, responsible, and professional.

If I were to do anything differently, knowing what I know now, I would probably bring the crisis to a head sooner, rather than reluctantly going along with: “what you need will be ready in plenty of time” (because it wasn’t), and “just ask for what you need, and we’ll get it for you” (because they didn’t, because they were too busy with their own stuff), and “you shouldn’t let that hold you up” (because I should have, because it was a big red flag). I would have brought the crisis to a head sooner, because that would have given the team as a whole a better chance of ultimate success.

My problem is that I allowed myself to become emotionally invested in the project. (Gasp!) And while that did not compromise my professionalism–that is, I still only committed to those things I actually thought I could deliver, given the assurances I had been given–it did cause my judgement to falter–that is, I should have questioned the assurances I had been given, suspected them, pored over them, verified them.