I realized something this morning, and I don't know why it escaped me for so long, it's one of those things that's just plain obvious, maybe everyone else can see it, but it's about me, so I couldn't.

Here's the thing I realized.

No one knows what I do.

Maybe with one exception, possibly I know what I do. Or perhaps I know what I'm trying to do. What I'm trying to do looks more and more hopeless, I guess. Because a big part of what I do involves other people using what I create. There really need to be a lot of them for it to work.

Here's what I think I am.

I am a software developer.

I don't work for a company. I make software because it pleases me to do that, the way a potter makes pots, or a gardener tends a garden, or a cook prepares meals, or an architect designs buildings. 

That's it. That's what I do.

It's not my imagination. There's real software out there that I created that people use. But I think even the people who use it don't know. I think they think there's a company here, when there's just me.

PS: Of course I also blog, but that's part of being a software developer and a human being.

PPS: And I hack media. I'm always trying to imagine new ways to use media to help us evolve, because we need to do a lot of that quickly. Because our media isn't evolving we're actually spinning backwards, at a time when we can ill-afford to do that.

PPPS: Don't cry for me Argentina. I have had it pretty good. I share my observations here. This is just one more.