I'm Peter Sergeant, and I wrote a lot of this stuff down because I was repeating myself a lot at parties (some parties, eh?), and it's easier to point someone to my blog...
I'm currently working as CTO at Investor Dynamics where we turn newspapers in to data, doing a long-running Perl and testing consultancy gig at the most wonderful Net-A-Porter, trying to whip PlaceSteal in to shape, occasionally writing open-source, and studying for a part-time MSc in - surprise, surprise - Software Engineering. I'm planning to get married this year, assuming she doesn't work out I have no free time...
I have a coworker, Johnny, who is at least a little bit smarter than I am.
But Johnny has an (irritating) habit of always appearing a lot smarter than me, because Johnny remembers everything.
I often have to read something a few times before it sinks in, especially if the content is somewhat technical, where Johnny has read it once and remembered it all, and can answer all manner of questions about it. Combine this with my having the attention span of gnat, and there's a problem worth solving here.
This is of course a mixed blessing for Johnny, as people are quite happy to use him as a technical reference with a really good audio API, which hurts his productivity some. Also: I recently found out he's using the technique we'll be talking about to learn Japanese,
In this brief post, I'm going to introduce you to the concept of the Spacing Effect, give you an overview of how I'm using it to commit massive amounts of useful (to me) information to memory, and then give you a set of interesting links to further your research.
When I bought a house ten years ago, I also bought place settings for six and silverware for twelve. Then I developed a minor fascination with bone China and bought settings for eight. I probably had four dozen glasses. About once a month or so, all of these dishes would be piled up in and around my sink, begging to be cleaned. I didn't have a lot of dinner parties-- I just hated doing dishes so much that I'd procrastinate until washing became a full day event. Those days were some of my least favorite.
A few days ago, I was doing the dishes for the six of us that ate dinner. There were pots, pans, plates, serving utensils, and glasses. The works. For the first time ever, I found myself enjoying doing the dishes. I could appreciate the warm water on my hands and the shine in the pot when it was clean. When I washed everything that wasn't dishwasher safe, I started handwashing the things that could have just gone in the dishwasher. It wasn't fun exactly, but it was so enjoyable that I actually found myself looking forward to washing the dishes the next day.
Work has become the same way. I don't love all aspects of it equally, but when I wake up and know I have a tough day ahead of me, I feel great. Pant of it is that I know the day will end with a nice chunk of progress made, but most of it is the actual act of working. I love it. I can't wait to face off with a bug that's been bothering me for weeks, trace it through all of our code, and fix it. It's relaxing, like an internal Swedish massage.
My friend Constance wrote me an email today. She was talking about me with her sister and some friends, describing my hyperfocus on work, learning, and other productive things. An excerpt from her email: