Abandon Ye Hope
Someday—if corporate doesn’t lay me off or AI doesn’t outpace me—I’ll write my last line of production code. The last snarky commit message. The last documentation paragraph no one reads. The last half-hearted code review, quickly skimmed before a 24-year-old overwrites it with “a cleaner pattern.”
I’ll skip the final knowledge transfer.
And then… I will be retired...
My goal is 70.
Not because I want to, but because I had kids late and now I need health insurance until I’m legally dead. The current U.S. male life expectancy is 75.8 years, so with luck, I’ll get five glorious years to sit in a La-Z-Boy and have PTSD flashbacks of sprint planning.
The 5-Year Dream
What I really want is a tiny coffee shack. One of those forgotten little huts wedged into a train station vestibule, where half-awake commuters buy bitter joe and a bran muffin…
I’ll wake up early, brew questionable coffee, and hand it to suits who have their own nightmares to chase. Once or twice a week, I’ll call Sysco and pretend I know what I’m doing.
There will be no Jira tickets. No stand-ups. No ever growing tech debt. Just caffeine and ambient oldies radio.
If someone asks for a non-dairy option, I’ll nod solemnly and say:
“We have oat.”
I’ll be home by 11am to grab a grilled cheese and an afternoon nap…
The Countdown
Until then… to quote my favorite Talking Heads lyric:
“I love the passage of time.”