Fourteen years in the same field and somewhere around year eleven the satisfaction just quietly left the building
without telling me. I noticed it properly this March, sitting in a client call I could have run in
my sleep, doodling on a notepad instead of listening, and realizing I had stopped caring what the client decided.
Monday mornings now come with a dread that used to only show up before exams, a heaviness
that sits in my chest from around six in the evening on Sunday. I keep thinking about switching
into something else entirely, maybe UX research, maybe teaching at a design school two of my old juniors
now work at, and the thought is exciting for about four minutes before the fear shows up: starting
at the bottom again, earning a third of what I make now, sitting in a training room next
to twenty four year olds who already know the tools I would be learning from scratch, and having
to explain to my own parents why fourteen years of seniority suddenly means nothing on a new resume.
A couple of colleagues found out I was quietly looking into a short UX certification and reacted
like I had announced I was moving to another country, because from where they sit my career
looks stable and enviable, which makes it harder to explain that stable does not always mean bearable.
I have started shadowing a friend one Saturday a month just to see the unglamorous parts of the new field before I
romanticize it further, sitting in on user interviews that run three hours and pay far less per hour than what I currently bill.
Maybe I am just tired of doing one thing for fourteen years and calling that tiredness
a career crisis, which would be a very expensive way to admit I need a holiday.
💻techbhai
Tech Member
Sharing programming, web dev, and hardware tips on Hyd.Circle.