Hey,
It’s Friday at 5 PM. Everyone’s logging off. Your weekend is ahead of you. Two whole days of freedom.
But you’re thinking about that feature you didn’t finish. That refactoring you wanted to do. That side project you’ve been meaning to work on. And you’re already planning to open your laptop tonight. Maybe get a few hours in tomorrow morning. Sunday afternoon looks free too.
I need to tell you something that’s going to sound impossible right now: You don’t have to work nights and weekends.
Not to be successful. Not to advance your career. Not to prove yourself. You don’t have to.
The lie you’re believing
You’ve absorbed this narrative: real developers hustle. They code on weekends. They work late. They have side projects. They’re always learning, always building, always grinding.
You see it everywhere. LinkedIn posts celebrating all-nighters. Twitter threads about weekend coding sessions. That developer you admire who seems to ship a new project every month.
And you think: if I’m not doing that, I’m falling behind. If I only work 40 hours, I’m not serious. If I take weekends off, I’m lazy.
But here’s what they don’t tell you. That developer working every weekend? They’re heading for burnout. That person shipping constant side projects? They’ve sacrificed everything else in their life. That LinkedIn post celebrating no sleep? It’s not aspirational. It’s a cry for help disguised as a flex.
What working nights and weekends actually costs
Tomorrow night, you’re going to skip dinner with friends to work on code. You’ll tell yourself it’s just this once. Just to catch up. Just to get ahead.
Next weekend, you’ll cancel plans to finish that feature. The one you could finish Monday, but you want it done now. Because waiting feels like failing.
Month after month, you’ll trade your life for your career. And you’ll think you’re investing in your future. Building something. Making progress.
But here’s what you’re actually building: resentment. Exhaustion. A life that exists only to serve your work.
That relationship you’re in? It won’t survive. Not because they don’t understand your ambition. But because you’re never actually present. You’re at dinner physically, but mentally debugging. You’re on vacation with your laptop. You’re in bed scrolling through GitHub issues.
Those hobbies you used to love? You’ll tell yourself you don’t have time. Guitar collects dust. Books go unread. You’ll become the person who only talks about work because work is all you do.
Your health will deteriorate. Not all at once. Slowly. Back pain from the extra hours. Eye strain. Weight gain. Or weight loss. Sleep problems. Stress headaches. Your body keeps score even when you ignore it.
The weekend you’ll never get back
I want to tell you about a specific weekend. Three years from now. Your best friend is getting married. You’re in the wedding.
The night before, there’s a production issue. Not catastrophic. Not your responsibility. But you’re there. Because you’re always there.
You work until 3 AM fixing it. You’re exhausted at the wedding. You miss the rehearsal dinner completely. During the ceremony, you’re barely present, checking your phone to make sure the fix held.
Years later, when that friendship has faded, you’ll realize: they needed you there. Fully there. And you chose code over them. For a problem that could have waited until Monday.
That’s what working nights and weekends costs. Not hypothetically. Actually. Real moments. Real relationships. Real life.
The productivity myth
You think working more hours means producing more value. It doesn’t.
That feature you spent Sunday working on? You’ll rewrite it Monday because exhausted-you makes different decisions than rested-you. Worse decisions.
That code you write at 11 PM? It’ll have bugs. Bugs you wouldn’t have made if you’d written it Tuesday morning after a good night’s sleep. You’ll spend Wednesday fixing what tired-you broke.
The best ideas don’t come from more hours at the keyboard. They come from stepping away. From letting your subconscious work. From having experiences outside of code that give you new perspectives.
That breakthrough solution? It’s going to come to you on a hike you almost didn’t take because you thought you should be working. Not after 12 hours of grinding.
What I wish I’d done differently
I wish I’d closed my laptop at 5 PM on Fridays and left it closed until Monday morning. Every single week. No exceptions. Not because I didn’t care about my work. Because I cared about having a life.
I wish I’d protected my weekends the way I protected my production environment. Vigilantly. Aggressively. Because my mental health was just as critical as system uptime.
I wish I’d learned to say “I’ll look at that Monday” without guilt. Without feeling like I was letting anyone down. Because problems that can wait until Monday should wait until Monday.
I wish I’d pursued hobbies that had nothing to do with career advancement. Not “networking events.” Not “learning opportunities.” Just things I enjoyed because I enjoyed them. Guitar. Hiking. Reading fiction. Living.
I wish I’d been present at that wedding. And that birthday party. And that anniversary dinner. I wish I’d been there in body and mind, not just body.
The truth about successful developers
You know those developers you admire? The really successful ones? Not the loud ones on social media. The actually successful ones who’ve been in the industry for 20+ years.
Ask them about work-life balance. Most will tell you: they stopped working weekends years ago. They take vacations. They have hobbies. They’re whole people, not just developers.
The ones still grinding every weekend? They’re either young and haven’t learned yet, or they’re burning out in real-time and won’t admit it.
Sustainable careers aren’t built on constant hustle. They’re built on consistent, focused work during work hours, and actual rest during off hours. That’s not revolutionary. That’s just respecting that you’re human.
How to actually stop
I know what you’re thinking. “But I want to. I enjoy coding on weekends. It’s not work if I love it.”
Here’s the test: stop for one month. Completely. No code on weekends. No “just checking Slack.” No “quick fixes.” Nothing.
If you enjoy it, you won’t mind the break. You’ll be excited to code again Monday. If stopping feels impossible, if you’re anxious the whole month, if you feel guilty and restless… that’s not passion. That’s addiction. There’s a difference.
Start small if you need to. One weekend completely off. Just one. See what happens. Spoiler: the world doesn’t end. Your career doesn’t collapse. You come back Monday more energized than you’ve been in months.
Delete Slack from your phone. Yes, really. If there’s a genuine emergency, people know how to call you. Everything else can wait until Monday.
Close your laptop Friday evening. Put it somewhere you can’t see it. Out of sight, out of mind. Let the weekend be weekend.
Make plans. Commit to things that prevent you from working. Dinner with friends. A hiking trip. A concert. Anything that makes working impossible. Force yourself to be unavailable.
What your future self knows
I’m writing this from ten years in the future. My career is fine. Better than fine. I’m senior now. I lead teams. I make good money. I solve interesting problems.
And I work 40 hours a week. I don’t check email on weekends. I have hobbies. I’m married. I have friends. I travel. I exist outside of my job title.
The weekends I sacrificed didn’t get me here faster. If anything, they slowed me down. Because I spent years burning out and recovering instead of maintaining a sustainable pace.
The developers I work with who have healthy boundaries? They’re better developers. They’re more creative because they have input from outside work. They’re more reliable because they’re not constantly exhausted. They’re more pleasant to work with because they’re not resentful.
And the ones still working every weekend? They’re either headed for burnout, or they’re already there and pretending they’re fine.
The weekend that’s coming
This weekend, you’re going to work. I know you are. Because you haven’t learned yet. Because you think you need to. Because the habit is already forming.
But maybe next weekend. Or the one after. Maybe you’ll remember this letter. Maybe you’ll try something different.
Maybe you’ll close your laptop Friday evening and leave it closed. Maybe you’ll make plans with friends. Maybe you’ll read a book that has nothing to do with programming. Maybe you’ll just… rest.
And maybe you’ll realize: you’re okay. Your career survives. Nobody’s disappointed. The code waits patiently for Monday.
And maybe you’ll realize something even more important: you’re more than your productivity. Your worth isn’t measured in commits. Your life is supposed to include things that aren’t optimizing your career.
What I need you to understand
Working nights and weekends won’t make you successful. It’ll make you tired.
It won’t prove you’re serious. It’ll prove you don’t have boundaries.
It won’t advance your career faster. It’ll burn you out faster.
The hustle culture is a scam. It’s not a path to success. It’s a path to burnout, broken relationships, and a life you’re too exhausted to enjoy.
You’re allowed to work 40 hours and stop. You’re allowed to have a life outside of code. You’re allowed to be unavailable on weekends.
Not only allowed. You should. Because 20 years from now, you won’t remember the features you shipped on Sunday. You’ll remember the moments you missed while you were shipping them.
Close the laptop. Take the weekend. Live your life.
The code will still be there Monday. But this weekend? This moment? It’s only here once.
Your future self,
Who finally learned to rest
P.S. – That feature you’re thinking about working on tonight? It can wait. You need sleep more than it needs to be finished.
