All coders are junkies

Every coder is, in my opinion, a borderline junkie.

Every programmer I ever met has been a bit of a self-absorbed addict, chasing down the next clever algorithm. We're cerebral adrenalin junkies, hooked on the punch of endorphins when we execute a script successfully. When we write a test that passes.

The better ones are addicted to color. If a green bar was heroin, we'd be shooting it into our veins.

I suppose there are worse things to be hooked on.

The best part about being a disciplined coder

In order to be disciplined, you have to be undisciplined. It's an unavoidable rule.

The best part about being a disciplined coder is that it's okay to make stupid coding mistakes. That's how you can tell if you're disciplined.

You probably already know you're going to make coding errors for the rest of your life. If you recognize that  failure is a normal characteristic of  development, you're doing better than half the developers out there. If you realized that it's more important to learn how to find your own mistakes than it is to avoid them, you're doing better than the next half. When you're able to identify your mistakes and own them, privately and publicly, you're doing better than 90% of the rest. 

Stop worrying about the ideal structure of your code. Start worrying about knowing which parts of your structure are the most error prone. Start worrying about the places where you make your boneheaded mistakes. Start worrying how to stop doing the boneheaded mistakes.

And get to work on one of them.

Why so many developers belong in the basement

I am a programmer because I don't like talking to people. Not because I don't like people, but because I'm not the most adept at conversation. For years, I've misspoke or spoke to myself and people inferred I was disturbed. I suppose some thought I was high. Sometimes I may have been, too. Regardless, I am not always held in the highest of esteem because of this annoying habit.

This presents a problem because I like talking. But sometimes when I talk, it's at the wrong moment, or in the wrong context, and suddenly eyes fall on me.

Sometimes, I'm far more comfortable talking to myself. Yet, there are few legitimate reasons for talking to yourself. Praying is one; BlueTooth is another. I do neither.

This is one single behavior. Just one. Yet, if I eliminated it, no strangers would ever assume I was homeless. I found it striking that I could change so many people's opinion of my simply by talking less.

Another principle of life.