Side projects have always been the most exciting banes of my existence.
I LOVE the initial rush of building and launching something. Even maintaining it is SUPER exciting for the first few months. The first customers are a rush of endorphins.
Then the shine wears off. Life can't be kept on pause. Your partner wants a date night, but you have a backlog to work though. You got a frantic email from a customer that they accidentally deleted something and you currently have no way to recover that data. So now you have to add more resiliency to the application. In the middle of the night, your cron server dies, backups stop, emails stop, customers on the other side of the world can't log in.
All for a few dollars a day in revenue. Then after a year of that, you get burnt on the project. Then after another year, you stop working on it as much, the bug reports build up until you are scared to even look at your reports.
Your partner goes away for the weekend to visit their family, you get a renewed sense of pride in this project that has been limping alone. You fire up your code editor, you pull the last commit down. You start to re-familiarize yourself with the code base. Day 1 was wasted with remembering how you did things. Day 2 starts with a coffee after only sleeping a few hours. You begin to work through the small tasks on your list, because you feel the snowball will work. About 8 hours in, you've made a SERIOUS dent in the backlog. You are feeling good and decide you should eat something finally. Your partner comes home while you are eating your breakfast at 4pm. They start to tell you about their family drama. You start to fade. You walk back to your office and try to get back into the groove. You can't. The weekend is over. Work starts again in 10 hours. You now feel angry that you wasted your weekend, and have to do real work in the morning.
I recently read an HN post where a LOT of people reported having the same rather specific dream that I have had many times (about being enrolled in a class they forgot about only to remember on the day of the final exam). It literally rocked my world to see evidence of how similar all of our 'wetware' is. And now I'm reading you describing a scenario I have experienced so many times, right down to 4pm breakfast and distracting stories of family drama. I am now pretty much convinced we live in a simulation and we're all subclasses of each other.
I have done this loop dozens of times, sometimes for pleasure projects that are released for free, sometimes for projects that make $100/week. It's hard to maintain motivation when you are working for less nothing.
I've actually stopped launching software now. I devote my passion projects to things where the customer is a one-time interaction. No support, no emails, no late nights working out why there is a 500 that only happens on this ONE user at 1:16AM.
Now, I make rolling trays, refinish antique furniture, and garden. In the new year, I will be converting half of my workshop into a CBD/hemp farm to grow my own hemp to make my CBD tinctures and oils (currently I buy CBD flower from Oregon).
Software has stopped being my only source of joy and income. After 2 decades of programming almost every single day, my brain is tired, and I don't even know what it was all for.
My garden provides nectar for bees, vitamins and minerals, for myself and my family, sunshine for my body. My woodworking provides that sense of pride that I had with software without all the bugs (well sometimes there are grubs in the wood). My CBD is "medicine", and it helps my dad with his phantom limb pain, me with my Hashimoto's flareups, and other's with their anxiety and stress.
I LOVE the initial rush of building and launching something. Even maintaining it is SUPER exciting for the first few months. The first customers are a rush of endorphins.
Then the shine wears off. Life can't be kept on pause. Your partner wants a date night, but you have a backlog to work though. You got a frantic email from a customer that they accidentally deleted something and you currently have no way to recover that data. So now you have to add more resiliency to the application. In the middle of the night, your cron server dies, backups stop, emails stop, customers on the other side of the world can't log in.
All for a few dollars a day in revenue. Then after a year of that, you get burnt on the project. Then after another year, you stop working on it as much, the bug reports build up until you are scared to even look at your reports.
Your partner goes away for the weekend to visit their family, you get a renewed sense of pride in this project that has been limping alone. You fire up your code editor, you pull the last commit down. You start to re-familiarize yourself with the code base. Day 1 was wasted with remembering how you did things. Day 2 starts with a coffee after only sleeping a few hours. You begin to work through the small tasks on your list, because you feel the snowball will work. About 8 hours in, you've made a SERIOUS dent in the backlog. You are feeling good and decide you should eat something finally. Your partner comes home while you are eating your breakfast at 4pm. They start to tell you about their family drama. You start to fade. You walk back to your office and try to get back into the groove. You can't. The weekend is over. Work starts again in 10 hours. You now feel angry that you wasted your weekend, and have to do real work in the morning.
And the cycle repeats.