Time to read:
Part 1 of 9: Weekday Morning
The alarm doesn’t ring because at 6:30 AM my daughter is already climbing into our bed and settling between me and my wife with the surprising grace of a badger that can push us apart to different sides with her hands and feet. Where does a child even get so much strength? Shouldn’t she be small and fragile and all that? Anyway, it’s not very important at 6:30, but since sleep is already over, I might as well get up. The night went as usual – 6:30 isn’t the only time the little badger decided to set up her burrow in our bed. Two more times I carried her back to her own bed, so you can imagine what reflection I see in the mirror in the morning. Can you picture it? Now let’s imagine that suddenly this reflection doesn’t belong to me, the father of a 4-year-old, but to an Ideal Instagram Father assembled piece by piece like Frankenstein’s monster. Let’s call him Bob. And here’s Bob looking at me, full of strength, well-rested and ready to go for morning yoga or meditation or a run or whatever morning magic holds. Bob winks at me and looks condescendingly. I frown back and look with distrust. “Well well, let’s see what the day has prepared for you and me.” Bob salutes and we both turn away simultaneously. Apparently he went to yoga. At this moment from the bedroom comes “Da-da! I’m awake! Let’s go play animals!” Well, my morning magic is beginning too.
Editor's Note: Now he's going to grumble about Bob for all 9 parts. And you know what? He has every right to. Because he hasn't been getting enough sleep for several days in a row, and because Bob is his reflection. And also Bob is a poser. Anyway, stay tuned for the remaining 8 episodes. Maybe you have your own "Bob".
Part 2 of 9: Before working hours
6:30 AM. I help my daughter wash up and brush her teeth, we look together at what’s going on with her home clothes. Bob drinks his green/red/orange smoothie, while I quickly make instant coffee for myself and my wife. I rub my eyes and with one hand play animals, while with the other I scroll through Instagram, news, articles. We still have about an hour before leaving for kindergarten, so I try to pull myself together with a sip of coffee and doomed scrolling. Bob, of course, doesn’t engage in such nonsense. After his workout he reads a new book, studies Danish, or maybe practices something insanely interesting and completely useful. When there’s about half an hour left before leaving for kindergarten, I use every option to entertain the child. We draw, watch cartoons, build a tower from whatever comes to hand. Bob’s daughter emerges from the bedroom (of course he has a daughter and wife, otherwise how could you even look at that face?!). Bob’s daughter is an amazing creature. She’s calm, obedient, she doesn’t have adenoids and her legs aren’t covered in bruises. She knows “hello” in 5 languages, never argues with her parents to the point of tantrums. You get it – a fairy tale! She’s already washed up, changed clothes, brushed her teeth, made her bed and is generally wonderful. Bob offers her and his wife an avocado sandwich and fresh coffee. While they eat, Bob meditates. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to look… normal. Not cheerful, not happy, not even thoughtful. Just normal. This whole hour I think about whether I’ll go back to sleep after I take my daughter to kindergarten or not. Well, it’s good that the kindergarten is very close. 5 minutes by car, 15 on foot at badger speed. Hooray! Overall, I consider that the day is clearly going according to a good scenario after this: my daughter is healthy, went to kindergarten in a good mood, and I… I have a real hour and a half before work, you hear that, Bob?! My wife and I will likely watch a series episode or catch up on that missing hour of sleep. Bob develops his project, edits content. You should follow Bob’s example, you’ll say. Like hell I will, I’ll answer you. Bob is a well-rested Frankenstein’s monster, only divinely beautiful, but equally stitched together from pieces of super perfect successes. I have every right to be gloomy and sullen. Bob can smile for me in his Looking Glass world. He, by the way, also has to go to work soon.
Editor's Note: Yeah, Bob's morning magic really does resemble magic. In the sense that reality diverges from it like identical magnetic poles. More precisely, I can imagine that even the protagonist has an excellent morning when he gets enough sleep. Well, maybe once a month. Same with Bob's collective image - finding a bad day is no easy task when you're assembled from pieces of all the perfect Instagram content.
Part 3 of 9: Work
‘m a pretty ordinary employee with routine work. I know what my workday looks like and it shouldn’t bring surprises. I think even for an alligator hunter there comes a moment when he’s just heading to yet another reptile. But Bob’s different. Every day for him is productive and unique. And unique in a good way: new deals, successful releases, millions of impressions, successful technical solutions. He’s like a magnet for attracting luck.
You know Donald Duck has a cousin named Gladstone Gander? Well, that’s Bob in the duck world, for whom lucky breaks come regularly. But Bob is also a professional. He’s as professional as you and me, no more—it’s just that as a character assembled from hundreds of successes on the internet, he gets lucky more often.
Meanwhile, I arrive at the office, make myself white-collar coffee (not as good as Starbucks, but not as bad as from a vending machine), open my laptop, check the calendar, prepare for regular calls, check routine tasks, sometimes get distracted by Slack, respond to tickets (mostly that we won’t be able to react this very minute because we’re focused on releasing a new feature), read various documents – feedback, engineers’ reviews, documentation, etc.
This is literally 90% of my workday, I know what will happen, and for the most part, I maintain immersion in context to quickly respond to non-standard situations, which I’d prefer didn’t happen at all. After all, what could be better than a predictable, well-planned release? Only another release that brings exponentially more benefit, even if unplanned. Well, Bob’s are all like that. How does he manage his team? Well, Bob hasn’t said, but he also has the charisma of the Wolf of Wall Street, so his team is the most motivated and energetic in the world.
Before lunch I go to the restroom and there in the reflection I see Bob. He winks, raises an eyebrow questioningly, like, what have you achieved by 1pm today? I shrug, well, adjusted the roadmap – seems we underestimated the complexity of migrating a component from one framework to another. Bob nods understandingly. He’s already had three calls with delighted clients asking to extend their subscriptions on the most expensive tier until the end of 2099.
After lunch I go to a couple more calls, and it seems no surprises will happen today, so around 5:00 PM I calmly head to kindergarten. Well, you already know who’s waiting for me there – the most active child in the world, with the destructive power of a badger, so I need to save my strength for the evening. By the way, yesterday she invented a drum set out of a tambourine, two sticks, and a chair. So the evening will definitely not be boring.
Editor's Note: The thought about predictable routine and lucky breaks is interesting, but not new. Black swans, normal distribution, comfort zone... Come on, redeem yourself in the next part, I hope there'll be something about the badger drum solo.
Part 4 of 9: On the Way Home from Work
It’s very telling that while Bob manages 4 tasks in parallel, 5 sequentially, and delegated 3, I could barely find the strength for part 4 in 300 words. There’s the irony. Well, whatever. Good thing work-kindergarten-home are in a triangle that can be walked in about 25 minutes, 8 minutes between points.
So I close my laptop and head to kindergarten. The teacher meets me there, she really really asks me to talk with my daughter at home: today she said she was a kangaroo and jumped on the playground so much that the teacher got more gray hairs. I say, of course, but silently I’m thinking – as if it’s any different at home. Only she doesn’t know it’s not a kangaroo, but a little badger. And here she comes now, smeared with paint, a spot on her nose, hopping on one leg.
Bob’s daughter was also at drawing class, but like a beautiful unicorn, there’s not a single spot on her. Bob picks up the genius drawing and tucks it into a neat folder (I also save them, but only the chosen ones make it to the folder). It’s a 15-minute walk home at badger speed, so I have time to talk with my daughter about what a hard day she had at kindergarten. Oh, how I understand you. At home, drum rehearsal awaits us, a visit to the rabbit café, and maybe we’ll play some Mario. Because dad also needs to rest a little, you know.
Bob on the way home is also interested in how his daughter’s day went, no doubt. He’s the perfect father. He also manages to review with her recently learned words from some new language, solve a couple of arithmetic problems in his head, and play “I spy.” Well, I have zero complaints about Bob here. Honestly, I even sometimes peek at what he’s come up with there, maybe it’s realistic? But otherwise Bob is, of course, still the same gleaming perfect machine that I have very little trust in.
To write this took me a bunch of days, completing a couple dozen small but important tasks, a dozen bigger and not so important but extremely interesting ones, and just being a couch potato for a few hours. So what? Only Bob can recharge from the sun. Well, and Nikolai Vasilenko (a popular cheerful personality of 2025 known for his constant smile and positivity), though he’s also an Instagram entity, like Bob.
Editor's Note: Don't justify Bob! He doesn't care anyway, since he's the embodiment of all successful internet, and the readers will be disappointed! Don't disappoint the readers. But putting things off is quite a viable working scheme, especially in cases of competing attention and limited resources. And completely stopping some activity is also a great option, not all things should be done constantly, it's important to free up space for other things.
Part 5 of 9: At Home Before Sleep
And here we are at home. There’s just under 4 hours left before bedtime prep, and during this time one of us will definitely be occupied playing with our daughter. Most likely me for the first half, because my wife still has 2 hours of work left. And my restless daughter and I try to keep the noise down. But of course, not today. Today we have drums, so brace yourselves neighbors, pigeons and everyone around, it’s going to be loud. I grab the harmonica, my daughter sits behind her drums, and we start making a ruckus. Not Korn, of course, but I’d say energetic enough—in a couple years we’ll work our way up to them. On other days when I have calls, my wife handles playtime. Her games are, naturally, more elegant.
And in the window reflection I see Bob. He’s also playing with his child, and you know what? Overall not much more brilliant than me this evening. He has some colorful pictures, letters, words. All very important and responsible. Next Bob has a beautiful dinner for 3 and reading time. He started reading a new bestseller “How to Be an Even Better Version of Yourself When You’re Already Wonderful.”
Meanwhile, I switch between playing something and scrolling my LinkedIn feed and reading short notes or playing some old game on a handheld console. Why? I’m ready to be interrupted at any moment. Whether it’s my daughter or household chores, focusing on something feels too costly. More precisely, I could focus, but when they interrupt me (and this will 100% happen), I’ll be upset that I was torn from context. I try to keep it minimal, so I can restore it with one glance. Reading books is, of course, completely out of the question. But these LLMs really help in this regard. I can ask them to do something, get distracted again, and then check the result. Whether it’s some research or project’s edits using Claude Code.
And so, everyone’s eaten, played, and the most active little badger is ready to go to sleep. Here, I can brag, everything’s going great for me too—my daughter brushes her teeth, says goodnight, and heads off to sleep. About 20 minutes later she’s already snoring, and the parents get 2 hours of free time.
Editor's Note: Finally you are back! Bob seems to fade into the background here. Though I suppose after the workday it doesn't matter so much what others think or what they're doing. The thought about constantly expecting interruption is interesting. Just not entirely clear what to do about it? Maybe the next episode will have a solution?
Part 6 of 9: At Home When Daughter Sleeps
The easiest time. Daughter’s asleep. Sometimes you don’t even know what to do with yourself, you sit on the floor and stare at the wall. Wow. Two hours of time where you can do whatever you want. Maybe I’ll read the book Bob recommended… But most likely we’ll just sit together with my wife and watch some Netflix. Besides, the last season of Stranger Things is about to drop.
Actually the choice is very difficult, there’s only two hours left into which you can squeeze just one thing and it doesn’t matter what: household chores, TV shows, games, reading, personal projects. Naturally, rest wins most often, because, you know, you get tired during the day, right? Sometimes less, sometimes more, but usually by 9 PM there’s very little energy left, and these experts who say that it doesn’t matter to the brain what you do, playing computer games or studying languages from a load perspective, are probably talking about some brain detached from the body and real life.
I know for certain that at 9 PM it’s easier to play games than to learn something new. Yeah yeah, Bob’s already gesticulating at me in the reflection of the still-off TV, like, 2 hours a day is 14 hours a week, and that’s… well, enough to master a new skill in a year. But we know that Bob is a fiction of social media, and he only lives in reflections or on a switched-on smartphone. Yes, Bob, I’m damn happy for your arithmetic, but you know what? Fuck off today. Today I’m putting on warm socks, making tea, getting cookies and my wife and I will watch the new season of Stranger Things.
Oh right, from the last part, what to do if your focus window doesn’t exceed 15 minutes? Nothing, really. Unfortunately, you just have to accept it. But at least you (I) are a pretty good father.
Deputy Editor's Note: Today I'm filling in for the editor! Thanks for the advice, of course. But such things, you know, don't warm up the audience—just accept it and do nothing? We need solutions, recipes, preferably with guarantees. Maybe ask Bob? He surely has a ton of life hacks about what to do and what not to do.
Part 7 of 9: Weekend Playground Duty
And here’s the weekend. Everything’s clear in advance—one of us must be the guardian of wildlife in the form of our daughter. Moreover, you need to protect the surrounding environment from this representative, not the other way around. So we need a place where the mini-badger can spend her energy. Ideally outdoors, but that’s not always possible. The main thing is to find a place with entertainment for kids and coffee for adults. A pile of sand and a couple of sticks still work for now, so things aren’t so bad. Activities change each month, and what works now might stop working in six months. But let’s get back to the part where you need to make sure the restless daughter doesn’t hurt someone, including herself. Naturally, all other things fade into the background. It’s like tracking a snow leopard—you’re always looking at the same spot, searching for your child, but keeping your distance.
Excellent practice for patience, situation assessment and attentiveness. You know how it goes—you blink and the snow leopard, that is the badger, is already out of sight. The main thing is to understand: should you run to another vantage point to see the other side of the sand pile, or wait a bit? It’s funny that this decision is made largely on luck, there’s no way to know whether it’s right or wrong at the moment of decision, but then with what a smart look you can say afterwards that this series of decisions was right or wrong, extolling your analysis skills and criticizing others’.
This is purely Bob’s territory—he never makes mistakes, all his decisions are clear to him in the moment, he always knows the consequences, and if the result will be bad, he calculates this in advance, then prepares a 6-point analysis of why it was a bad decision.
There are no mirrors on the playground, so I won’t run into Bob. But when we return home, he’ll already be there. He’ll tell me how he spent these hours with his daughter at the playground, simultaneously solving issues on his smartphone. Prepared several checklists for next week, related to his personal brand and hobbies. Maybe bought tickets to an exhibition or theater, booked a tennis court. The main thing is he’ll manage everything and won’t make a mistake anywhere. Go Bob!
Editor's Note: Sorry for being absent last time, got hit by a migraine. We won't put Bob on air. The focus on decision-making in this issue—taking it to print. Of course, not everything is so fatalistic, there are obviously good and bad decisions. Watching series until 3 AM when you have work at 8 AM is bad in most cases, and buying Christmas gifts in advance, not on December 24th, is most likely good. But there's a range of situations where you can't even say "most likely." For example, using Dart Angular instead of React TypeScript in 2015. At that moment it was a good decision that would only lead to difficulties in 2019. Don't forget this. If in doubt—use PHP. It will outlive any stack.
Part 8 of 9: Weekend Evening
I’ll focus on the evening, when daughter went to sleep for the night. What about Bob?
Bob’s routine, as we know, is scheduled to the minute. He puts everything in his calendar, and his day glides like a maglev train. Without a single bump.
Morning was workout, then time with daughter, then meditation, then reading, then lunch, then time with daughter…
In the evening, when the little badger has already worn herself out, done everything possible and impossible, and finally went to sleep, I’m again faced with the choice of what to do for the next two hours. Unfortunately, I prefer doing things in the morning rather than before bed, so various pet projects, self-education and reading serious literature comes hard. Good thing there’s Claude Code, so I can do projects even in these short two hours. And make progress by leaps and bounds. Such progress, when in two hours you can deploy an essentially ready application for personal needs somewhere on Netlify or Render, increases the sense of satisfaction. If before I wouldn’t even start such things, because the chance of reaching even half completion was near zero, now this half happens in one evening. But you already know all this, right? That it’s a bubble, that it’s not a bubble, that all AI is slop, that it speeds up work, that it can’t be used in gamedev, that it’s destined to be used in gamedev, that it will steal your jobs, that it will create new jobs…
And for me the evening flows into night, which means it’s time to sleep. After all, tomorrow is Monday, and everything will go along familiar tracks again. See you at the next station!
Editor's Note: Thank you for the final episode. It's hard to accept routine as it is, and for many months do the same thing, knowing in advance the outcome of the whole endeavor. To accept that the main thing is not the goal but the journey—is not easy. And to understand that seemingly insignificant decisions now can lead to a completely different result in a few years—is even harder. Perhaps a book read, a trip to a small town, or some children's matinee will completely change the child's future. What? You thought I was talking about you? Oh no, with you everything is already clear...
See you soon!
Part 9 of 9: Bob’s
Hello everyone. My name is Bob. Not the Bob from Twin Peaks. More precisely, not 100% evil Bob, but we have something in common—we’re both mystical entities. Bob from Twin Peaks is a walking Nightmare, capital N. He’s the embodiment of evil. I’m more likely to cause irritation, sometimes envy. But sometimes also the desire to prove yourself. Usually it starts with the thought “what, I can do better, this thing I’m seeing right now—is complete garbage.” That’s how one Bob evaluates another, but actually it’s all the same fictional character who only lives in the screens of your devices. Yes, no one will ever know how many parts I consist of. I have a writer’s hands, a runner’s legs, an architect’s brain and the instinct of the best entrepreneur. I never sleep and always manage everything, because I don’t exist. And if I suddenly acquire some tangible state, the best thing I can turn into is ambition. What do you think these 8 parts were for? Why does this guy do pet projects he doesn’t talk about, why does he engage in various other activities that the architect’s brain and writer’s hands know about? Because he wants something and can’t settle down. That’s exactly why he looks at pieces of me, trying to find that very path that will lead him somewhere he hasn’t been yet. You can endlessly bash Western success culture, but these are the rules in which at least most of IT lives. You’ve heard the expression that just to stay in place, you need to run fast? Well, this guy is trying to run, like everyone else. Often blindfolded and in shoes with untied laces. But he knows that if he stops, he can lose. And in his case (you saw the message about layoffs?) this isn’t just an expression, but a life truth. Alas. In general, although I’m a successful projection of success, refined in substance but the form is molasses—and let’s be honest, that’s the sweetest part—you can still extract a drop of benefit from me. But, I implore you, under no circumstances, for nothing in the world, don’t blindly trust influencers who talk about morning magic and 5:30 for meditation, and your LLM’s answer. These two characters may hallucinate, and somewhere deep down is hidden the truth: the context is incomplete.
Don’t be bored and farewell! Your Bob.
Deputy Editor's Note: And there you have it. Nine parts behind us, and who would have thought Bob would turn out to be the most honest character. He at least admitted he doesn't exist. The rest of us are still pretending we know the answers. By the way, the editor returned from vacation and is very displeased that I gave Bob the floor. But you know what? Sometimes you need to break the rules. Even if afterwards you have to explain why the final episode was written by a fictional character from reflections. See you in the next series! If, of course, they don't fire me.
