
Disclaimer: the title is heavily inspired by one of my all-time favorite albums: NOFX - So long and thanks for all the Shoes.
I'm one of those people who can't start a year without some kind of structure. Not a strict New Year's resolution, but usually a rough list of goals, split by quarters. Something loosely inspired by OKRs.
I'm not even sure this approach works that well for me. I've never hit 100% of those goals. Plans change, life happens—and that's fine. Still, having them helps me avoid something that comes too easily: slipping into a comfortable routine, stopping to look around, and missing chances to grow.
That's pretty much what happened to me in 2025.
During the holidays, I took some time to reflect on the year. As an engineer, I couldn't help but look at it through numbers and concrete highlights across projects, health, fun, and work:
It's easy to look at life and focus on what's missing. We compare ourselves to others, even when we know we're playing entirely different games. Social media makes this worse. Not because people are lying, but because we're constantly exposed to other people's highlight reels and timelines.
Looking back at those highlights, I realize I compared myself too often. Worse, I was pushing myself toward goals I don't think I genuinely wanted. More out of social pressure than personal conviction. In the hindsight, I think I did pretty good, actually.
I also avoided doing things I enjoy unless I could justify them. I fell into the productivity trap: if something wasn't useful, measurable, or leading somewhere, it felt wasteful. Fun needed a reason. "Just because I like it" wasn't enough.
I want to change that.
After some hard moments in 2025, my reflection converged into a simple thought: my time is limited, so how do I actually want to spend it?
Instead of setting goals out of thin air, I'm experimenting with guiding questions:
I won't share my answers here. The point isn't the answers, it's the method. And maybe that way of thinking helps someone else, too.