- Answer 2am page of employee that is rude and impatient.
- Set alarm 15 minutes ahead to compensate for 45 minutes of missing sleep.
- Sleep without dreaming.
- Wake up and realize that you did not dream - which means another night of no REM sleep
- Pull yourself - literally - out of bed, which is too stiff to support your back properly, which means each morning is a fabulous, new and amazing experience in soreness. Ever-so-carefully pop the 4 vertebrae that are out of place back into place, with a satisfying crunch.
- Run downstairs, place 3 scoops of fresh coffee into coffee maker and turn it on. Time saved by running coffee before everything else: 10 minutes.
- Run upstairs and shower quickly.
- Shaving is not optional...well, most days it isn't...I did shave, right? Better get coffee soon...
- Get dressed. Wake up the spouse and kids.
- Wake up the kids again.
- Wake up the kids again.
- Are the kids awake? Are they getting dressed?
- Did I mentioned "dressed"? Now?
- Dressed yet?
- Have spouse grumble at you about not being ready because you spent all your time coordinating the kids. Spouse will get the kids to school or other planned activities from here.
- Grab wallet, keys, phone, and pager. Curse that you cannot reliably get rid of the pager because your work requires complete 365/24/7 operation, along with the ability to be on call and on-premise at any time, any where, for any reason.
- Supress memory of coming into work on Christmas day and working all day, while you miss out on family.
- Run downstairs and drink 3-4 cups of coffee.
- No time for breakfast. Time saved: 10 minutes. Time lost from your overall lifespan, probably a day. Look outside and grab coat, if cold grab coat with hood, if hot, grab hat and no coat.
- Walk 800 feet to the train
- Wait 14 minutes for the train which was there just a minute ago.
- Get on the train, somewhere around the door, because there are no seats.
- Ride the train standing up for 45 minutes because it's important that snotty kids half your age (20) hog two seats at a time instead of giving them to people twice your own age (80).
- Mental note: when much older, obtain cane that is lined with a 5-pound lead rod, so you will be able to beat the snot out of anyone who lacks manners. Riders now wonder why you have a maniacal smile on your face, not unlike Batman's Joker.
- People start giving you room because of the insane smile. You now have room to move around and breathe. You can stop smiling now.
- Avoid person who smells like they have been eating raw lit cigarettes by the pack. You are grateful when they step off the train and remove the smell of burnt something from your vicinity.
- While waiting to get to your destination, listen to the recently released convicts almost screaming into their cell phones about getting across town in time for their court appearances, and realize that you are not knife-proof, fire-proof or bullet-proof. Also realize that you cannot have concealed carry on the train as well.
- On the last leg of your train journey, pull out blackberry and read some quick articles at theoildrum.com, and realize that your job is heavily dependent on cheap fossil fuel. Ponder how you can find a job that isn't, given that your employer is in denial about this reality.
- Push the concept of resource depletion out of your mind for another day. Pondering the fact that their doors will close in 10 years due to upcoming resource exhaustion just means you will have a job for 10 years, if you can keep up. So far, for the last 10 years, you have managed to hold on by your fingernails.
- You have survived layoffs, a car accident that nearly killed you, selling your home, management changes, a coworker that was disruptive and nearly got your boss fired, health issues that hospitalized your spouse, health issues that hospitalized you, rude and/or disinterested employees who show up to get a paycheck, a lack of time in all things, a lack of sleep, a child with autism, a child with ADHD, a mother who is terminal with cancer, and a wife that has cancer. For about 2 minutes, you feel as if you are the luckiest man alive.
- Train finally arrives at your stop. Time elapsed from when you got on the train to when you get off of it: 43 minutes. Of course, the bus stop that is located adjacent to it has no bus, because your urban planners are incapable of coordinating a syncronized stop (so that train passengers will get onto the bus). At this point, it will take more time to wait for the bus than it will to walk. And unlike the trains, the busses never run on time. Thank you, Tri-Met, for taking a brilliant light rail system and screwing it up.
- If it is winter, you will need to put your crampons on to walk on the 1/2inch thick ice that has formed all over the sidewalks. Note how there aren't any cars, because while the snow is whimpy in Portland, Oregon, the ice is almost a killer, turning the city into a skating rink. Zip up your heavy jacket, and walk carefully so you don't fall. Step into the crunchy snow/ice mix and marvel again how the city is unbelieveably quiet. There are no cars on the roads, no day laborers waiting for work, not even the busses are running - just you. You are beginning to feel like the central character in a sci-fi story, the ones where everyone has died and you're the last person on Earth...
- Walk 3/4 mile, regardless of weather conditions.
- Halfway on your trip, the bus that was tardy will decide to pass you at 30 miles per hour, not bothering to stop at the next bus stop that is 1/2 way between the train and your work. If you are lucky enough to catch the bus (about 1 in 20 odds) it will cut 8 minutes off your walk
- Proceed to walk down a steep hill to cut off another 3 minutes
- Walk upstairs, and if needed, unlock the office
- Sit down and unlock your machine. After an entire hour of standing and walking, your calves feel like steel rods. They are aching. Ignore the pain, it is for the weak.
- Fire up email, Google Chrome, and Pidgin
- Start the 64kbit ambient stream running from sleepbot (if you are the only one there) - this will calm you a bit and will come in handy to drone out the obnoxiously loud end-users that wander in. Yelling into a headset is the norm for most sales staff, but not for IT staffers trying to concentrate on systems and code. Unfortunately, this translates into yelling in the middle of a tiny office, because someone in their brain hasn't turned the damn volume down
- If coffee is available, get about 2 cups of coffee in your hand-decorated mug that your daughter has gifted to you. For 2-3 seconds, as you marvel at the brightly colored mug, you miss her and wish you could see her.
- After glancing at email (nothing important) and checking your servers, glance at world headlines for 60 seconds (no, really, you get 60 seconds) and wonder how so few people can screw up such a magnificent planet.
- Despite your low user Id, you have long since left slashdot, which is now a combination of random noise. The empty tab you were going to use in your browser is closed and you forget going back.
- Drink your coffee, which (unlike your tasty home brew) is two steps up from Rhinoceros bile.
I embellished a bit about the crazy smile, but otherwise, the trip is true - all of it, including the convicts. It makes for an interesting morning when your co-workers and boss arrive in a sing-song mood from their hermetically sealed vehicles and smooth commute.
Once every 3 weeks, this ritual is repeated at 4am instead of 7am, and I arrive at 5am in the morning. All users are kicked out of the ERP system and the database reindexed, balances recalculated, etc. This has to be done in 60 minutes, no excuses.
People wonder why I get pissed at techies that seem to think that money grows on trees, that life is easy because they are in tech, and why haven't I had the same wonderful experiences. The implication is there is something obviously wrong, and I am beneath them, as I don't have lots of money, I don't have a car, but I have a family that I love.
I generally suppress the urge to punch them; I smile, and say "you wouldn't believe me". I also suppress the urge to tell the person to ${censor} themselves.
An update:
It's been a few years since this post. Time has past and things change. I no longer take the train, although I don't mind doing so when needed. I have improved my sleep, toned down the coffee, eat right now, and have overall a better life balance. Being an admin is hard enough work. It's extra hard for no reason when you have to live at an "existence" level for so long. Doing so for about a year and a half was a difficult, dark time, and having a parent pass away made it even darker. I'm glad it's over, but I wanted to say that I appreciate what I have now more than ever, because of going through it.
From that perspective, I've gained a bit more insight into my end-users. I now appreciate their requests, even the silly ones, because in their minds, they think their issues to be "of the greatest importance"; it matters little if it really is or isn't. Most of the time, it's little stuff that is easily addressed; sometimes, it's bigger than thought. But in the end, making their day better is what makes the job - and the challenges that come with it - part of why we do what we do.
Lastly, if anything, the insight I gave about techies "that seem to think that money grows on trees, that life is easy because they are in tech, and why haven't I had the same wonderful experiences" - that little bit has proven accurate over time. To those that still do not or even choose not to understand how the interaction of demands on you and the demands of the work can drain you and others around you, herein lies a little nugget of wisdom: You'll never grasp your profession until you really listen to what is being said.
tl;dr: don't make dumb assumptions that everyone is just like you, don't be defensive because someone disagrees, be polite and sparse with criticism, and listen with your ears, not your mouth.