Not a single port forwarded, I just set my router up as peer node.
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There's just not a good way to visualize the compute needed, with all the nuance that exists. I think that trying to create these abstractions are what leads to people impulse buying resource-constrained hardware and getting frustrated. The autoscalers have a huge advantage in this field that homelabbers will never be able to match.
Would it not help with the DDR4 example though if we had more "real world" tests?
I could spend hours figuring out all those things, bit I'd rather use that time for something more important.
Configuration is straightforward and easy imo: https://starship.rs/config/
Give it a spin, I think you won't regret it.
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I always and energy to do everything. I was often the hero making sure we recovered from errors over the weekend, we hit unrealistic deadlines, or we were prepared for stakeholders beyond what we thought was possible. I thought this was rewarding and that it would help my career, so it was worth it. I liked feeling useful and needed by my team.
It seemed for a decade or so that this fountain of energy, what I assumed was innate enthusiasm, would never end. It seemed like the natural thing to do.
Well, eventually real life happened. I had kids to care for. I had a relationship to maintain. I couldn’t continue working time and a half in perpetuity. Weekend projects and learning got sidelined.
The healthy response to this would be recognizing how crazy it was in the first place. Instead I doubled down in both directions. I’d be an awesome parent and partner, AND I’d keep doing my best at work. It’ll be easy I said, I just need to manage my time better. I just need to plan and strategize. It’s only hard right now because I’m working hard, not smart.
I was wrong. Everything suffered. I began to resent myself for it, steadily whittling down my self esteem and confidence. I brought a worse version of myself to everything I did. And worse all the time.
I wish I was kidding but this gradual descent took a decade. It wasn’t just burn out. It was a complete restructuring of my internal monologue and outward lens on the world. I became incredibly depressed. It wasn’t until years, literally years, of intense burn out that I began to consider that I was experiencing burn out.
Burn out is a trendy buzz word, I figured. Work is supposed to be challenging. People the world over have found work hard for all of time and that’s precisely why it’s called work, right?
I had endless excuses for why I needed to work harder. I needed to stop going so easy on myself. Yet simultaneously I felt overwhelmed with the expectations I believed people had of me. Life gradually began to seem something like impossible. How could I possibly do all of this stuff?
Thinking this was normal was my ultimate undoing. I never stopped to think shit, Steve, you’ve got some dumb ideas. Take a break. Relax. Do less. I kept insisting to myself that it was all expected, required, necessary. By failing to do all of it I wasn’t experiencing the natural consequence of taking on too much… I was discovering that I was incompetent, unskilled, intelligent, etc.
Please don’t let yourself be me. It snuck up on me in the craziest way. I thought I was smarter than that, frankly. I don’t consider myself particularly smart, but I thought this would be relatively easy to avoid. I figured the signs would be obvious.
They probably are to others. For you, it might be incredibly insidious and entrenched much deeper than you’d imagine.
Maybe the best strategy is caring for yourself. My burn out was the product of insecurity and feeling the need to put others first almost relentlessly. Don’t do that. You matter as much as the people around you. Take care of yourself.
For years, I've been one of the people to step up: solving problems, hitting crazy deadlines, being the "hero" etc. I thought if I just kept pushing, it would pay off. But somewhere along the way, I realized that no matter how much impact I truly had, I was still just another employee, not truly breaking through to the level where I could make the difference I wanted. And the worst part is that I'm fully aware of it, yet I still deal with it because I haven't found the success I'm looking for.
Burnout doesn't hit all at once: it sneaks up on you when you're too busy solving everyone else's problems. I ignored it for too long, thinking it was just part of the job. For those of us who thrive on tackling the "impossible", it's easy to forget that you need to take care of yourself. Being the one who makes things happen shouldn't come at the cost of your well-being. It's okay to step back and prioritize yourself. You're worth so much more than just the work you do.
Combine Cassandra and savior syndromes, and it's been a terrible recipe for my health. I've learned that no amount of foresight or effort can substitute for the need for balance and self-care.
To anyone reading this, especially those in leadership, it's important to recognize the people truly making a difference. And for those who feel like they're giving everything and it's still not enough, sometimes stepping back and valuing yourself is the most powerful move you can make.
True leadership isn't about being the hero; it's about knowing when to put your own mask on first. You can't pour from an empty cup.