You have to be a whole lot of crazy to join a full-time coding bootcamp with a family depending on you.
60-hour-workweeks + 12 weeks to learn 2 years worth of material + 3 hours of daily commute + 2 irrational, demanding, adorable balls of sweetness + 1 husband who is losing his mind being alone 24/7 with those adorable, irrational creatures equals:
……(trying to find a calculator)….
In an abstract sense, I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew it in much the same way that I know the Earth is round and the universe is infinite.
Am I proud to have survived this experience?
Mostly I’m shell-shocked, with a loud ringing in one ear, disconcerting silence in the other, and a small trickle of blood coming from some location that I have yet to identify.
If I am proud of anything, it’s that no children were harmed in the making of this final project.
Now that it’s all said and done, I wipe the blood on the sleeve of my shirt, and ask myself:
Would I do it again?
Yes. Yes, I would.