Estimated reading time: 3 minutes

I spent way too much time and effort working on this blog. I forgot consistency mattered over immediate output. I was burnt out. I put a too much effort writing and coding this website that it stopped being fun or interesting. Taking things easy is the way to go. Consistency over volume is how you climb mountains.

Burnout

This post is a departure from my usual content – it’s a bit meta. I want to share how I created this website and the unexpected burnout it brought.

As I write this in early March, writing is ingrained in my daily routine. Mornings begin with journaling, afternoons for writing and editing essays on this website. These sessions aren’t long, but they motivate me, inspire me to work harder. The writing helps me structure my day and organize my thoughts.

Things got a bit weird last week. My mind has been utterly fried, “knackered” for my Brit cousins. The blog posts here have been compiled from my writings over the last four years. Some are from my work blog, and some from an engineering journal. I created some essays out of rants shared with friends. Some essays I took transcripts of my presentations, and reorganized. The “hobbies and how they make my job better” series originated as pep talks I gave at Hack Diversity for interns. They worried about not having tech-related hobbies. My 30-minute presentations showed my diverse hobbies and their impact on my work. My goal was to reframe software from an arcane skillset to a problem-solving tool.

All of the essays have been re-written fresh in the last month. I have dedicated three hours daily to this website. I’m still only 60% through the initial plan. This un-ending work has taken an emotional toll. The past week, the mere thought of opening my laptop and writing, editing, with no clear finish line, has filled me with dread.

Looking back, I see what went wrong. First, I procrastinated on the “hardest” parts. They got left for when I was already weary. This approach didn’t motivate me to finish. Second, I aimed for a single, monolithic launch – a foolish ambition. I should have started small, launched in stages, and gradually added content. A friend’s suggestion of a “minimally lovable product” (MLP) – a basic website version – was revealing. It made me understand the importance of limiting scope of one’s projects. My planning was flawed too, I crammed too much work into a month, hoping unrealistic expectations would drive productivity. They did, but at the cost of burnout. I could have handled it healthily in two ways:

1. Acknowledge reaching a respectable output, fulfilling my initial goal of self-tricked productivity.
2. Reset the plan when it became physically demanding.

Neither happened. This was my first major writing project. I learned a lot about my capacity and limitations.

There’s a book I love, “No Plot? No Problem!” by Chris Baty. It offers excellent advice on sustaining month-long projects like this one. It stresses the importance of being extra kind to yourself in the latter stages. That’s when burnout and abandonment loom. I failed to connect the dots. The advice for novelists writing a quick novel is applicable for someone revamping their personal website.

Well, the month-long struggle is finally over. I’m publishing all these essays in a few days, relieved to be over the hump. I’m genuinely excited about the upcoming work and writing consistently on this blog again. The plan is to publish an essay every two weeks, but we’ll see how that unfolds. Wish me luck!

Royalty-free stock image above from Pexels.