I’m not saying that there is no need to optimize for performance for REST-like servers, instead I am saying that it’s very dependent on the specific use case, which is difficult to predict. Often it can be more economical to scale up when there isn’t sufficient throughput, and to focus engineering optimization efforts on only those queries that are low-performing. Even then, there are typically optimizations to be made long before one reaches for assembly. Optimizing SQL queries, and efforts to increase parallelization are often sufficient. 

For instance, the server that I work on is a GraphQL API written in Typescript. I have a few million users, and it runs without problems. When I have had slow queries, I typically need to optimize the SQL/Prisma queries, two times I needed to optimize parallelization. We’re not particularly computer-bound. So I haven’t yet even needed to offset processing to even a compiled language. NodeJS is simply fast enough. 

You’re missing the reason why most code isn’t hand-optimized: it doesn’t matter. If you’re writing a server, most of the time waiting for a request, or waiting for a database query, or waiting on a file to read, or whatever. There is no point in optimizing these further. The only place where that matter is for high compute-bound processes. If you aren’t processing more than 10k records at a time, you’re unlikely to see much a difference. Even still, you can likely optimize your high-level code to get most of the gains you’d get from jumping down to asm. 

Pre-mature optimization is a waste of time. That’s time that can better be spent working on a new problem. It’s better to use observability to know where your code is actually taking the most time in production, and then optimizing those places, if they need it at all. 

I can’t tell you what you should do, but I can tell you about my experience. My son was born when I was 33. My (then) wife and I had been trying to convince for a few years, and we were about to seek fertility treatments. He was very much wanted. We talked about having more, but we felt pretty lucky to have the one. We divorced when he was about 8. 

I had a great role model for a father: mostly in the positive sense, but also with a few negative features that I intended to improve upon. He told me I taught him a lot. I can say my son has done the same for me. 

I got really lucky with my son. He’s enough like me when I was a kid that I was able to really relate to him. From an early age I have called him wiggle-monkey, because he could never sit still. Early on, he was diagnosed with ADHD. As a part of him getting evaluated and diagnosed, I found I did too. 

It re-contextualized a bunch of my childhood. I thought back to all of those times that I got in trouble for being lazy, or forgetful, or because I just couldn’t complete a task. My dad would get really frustrated with me. He was never abusive, but it was still traumatic because I really was trying. I had a lot of negative self-talk and self-image that extended into adulthood because of that. 

Knowing that these symptoms and struggles are common, despite our best efforts, I promised myself to not pass on that trauma to my son. I adopted a free-range and gentle parenting style. It taken a lot of patience at times, but learning that skill has improved my life. Since he’s now 15, and a great kid, I think I’ve been largely successful. 

Raising him has also brought me even closer to my father. Nights where my son was sick, and I sat with him to comfort him, I would think of all the times my dad did the same for me. When my son would have a deadline with school, and crammed too much in, I’d help him and think about how my dad had done the same for me. When money was really tight, and I had to make tough decisions, I thought about how my parents struggled and still managed to give me a happy childhood. 

Being a parent taught me responsibility and resilience. When  we both got the flu, I couldn’t just hide in bed because he needed me. When I was depressed and could barely will myself to get out of bed he still needed to get to school. When my feet and back were hurting from walking all day, I still managed to carry him as he slept on my shoulder. 

Being a parent isn’t that different than I expected it to be. All of those assholes that say, “unless you are a parent, you just wouldn’t understand” are wrong. Still, when I think about how much I love him, it makes me understand how my parents feel about me. 

It’s hard though, and expensive. It was really socially limiting for the first few years. I’m sure you’ve heard all that stuff before though. 

Since my divorce, I’ve shared custody of my son. We do a 2-2-3 schedule. It means that I have plenty of time away from my duties as a father. I love that freedom too. It’s really my one bit of advice I’ll give. If you have a child with someone/others, even if they live with you, divide up your days of responsibility. Of course you’ll both/all be parents on your days off, but that gives you time away to be you, and preserve your own identity. It makes planning easier. It makes friends easier. If you live with a partner, make time for them too. Being a full-time single-parent is pretty rough without support. 

Just also remember if you share custody with someone, you’ll be pretty tied to them for about 20 years. My partner is moving across the country in April, and I can’t go with her without my son losing access to one of his parents. If you do choose someone you like, try to think how you might feel in two decades. 

Another idea is maybe do fostering? Then you can try it before you buy it. That might even lead to adoption, which is yet another option.

Before thinking about starting an orphanage, why not look for programs where you can be in the lives of kids who need a good role model? Or volunteer at the local library to read to children. Heck, you might wind up finding someone you ultimately would want to have your own with.

So that’s it. Parenting is worth it, but not being a parent has lots of perks too. I got lucky with an easy (for me) kid. YMMV. Whatever you decide, whenever you decide it, it’ll be the right decision. 

This brings to mind a post, On Stance, by Screwtape, and my comment relating the mental stances I use to remind myself in the moment of how my brain consistently fails. In the past few years I have been trying to take this more seriously. Especially as I’ve become more aware of how my inattentive ADHD makes certain things difficult.

I’m coming up on my first full year of journaling, I’ve been doing that for about 1.5 years now, but I’m a little proud/excited to finish out 2025 with a journal entry for every day. I’m 47, and I really wish I had started earlier. Not only does this help me with analysis and memory augmentation now, but as I get older and really start experiencing mental decline I hope it will help me reconnect with who I used to be. Maybe once I’m dead it’ll help my son connect with me too.  

It sounds like you’re coming to some of the same realizations as I have. “Is this true?” is a great general-purpose mental stance. “Later is a lie,” is how I remind myself that I’m not likely to remember something in the future. While we can’t do much about the underlying problems, we can create systems to compensate, and mitigate our failures. 
 

The real question is whether it is equally effective to lie and say you meditate without the hard work. Then, does it matter if the other person knows it’s untrue? Does it still work if you lie and know the other person doesn’t believe you. Then does it matter if you know that they know why you’re lying? 

Hey, y’all, this post was very meditative. 

8. I know that whatever practical thing you look for in a partner (e.g. money), you not only lack the thing yourself, you also lack the faith you will obtain it on your own.

I can relate to most of your items, but this one confused me. What do you mean by practical here? Honesty, integrity, intelligence, and kindness seem practical to me, and are things I think I do pretty well. Also, I want partners that are financially independent, and I already am; I don’t want to lose that. 

I think that the one that I first filled out for my son was maybe a little longer, but not much. As I filled it out I noticed that my own score was high too. That one sheet of paper changed my life—and my son’s. 

I was ultimately assessed for four hours over two days. The medication turned out to be a big help, but the biggest change was I had a lot of guilt for my personal failings, which mostly turned out to be symptoms that many people with ADHD experience.

It took a while, but I let go of that shame and guilt. I started using cognitive prostheses (calendar events, timers, physical notes, etc.). Now when I have an ADHD meltdown, it no longer throws me into a depression and self-recrimination.

The drugs have been a great help too. It’s lessened my symptoms, and just made things easier. I’m so thankful for that initial assessment. 

If you’ve read the above assessment, and it indicates you should get further testing, DO IT. Your life may be changed too  

It’s also appropriate to apologize when you’ve purposely taken some action that caused harm as a by-product, even when you do not regret the action taken, but regret the harm you caused. 

I would argue that process apologies are less important than outcome apologies. A process apology is about what could have happened. 

That sounds like an intentional response, and a way to fight against trolls. I’ve certainly used that strategy before.