During the renovation on our house we’ve moved to West Seattle and I’ve noticed that things take me longer here. Not only is the commute 50% longer, but performing my morning ablutions takes longer. Things aren’t where I expect them, the doors don’t open on the correct sides, the light switches aren’t where the should be. Basically I haven’t learned the peculiarities of this house yet.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the kitchen. I like to cook and, with the exception of the occasional burned steak or overseasoned side dish, I am reasonably good. By which I mean that my wife will generally eat what I’ve prepared and keep her negative comments to herself. But even though I now have a pretty good sense of where everything in this new kitchen is and the equipment is good quality (though I’d prefer something other than the Cuisinart cookware because the handles get ferociously hot), nothing is moving quickly for me. In my kitchen at home, I can get my mis en place in a minute and have a meal out by the time my wife has finished unpacking the groceries. Here, time stretches.
The analogy to working on someone else’s code didn’t strike me until this afternoon when I was looking at some samples written by a coworker.