Crazytown city limits

So. My Last Two Days on the Job.

Last Wednesday, the titular head of the program I was supporting came into my office and pulled up a chair. The last time she did that, she told me I was being let go, so I didn’t know how to take this. After the customary soliloquy on Her Life, I took the opportunity to make a pitch for her hiring me as a consultant to run the scoping of the IT system that’s absolutely critical for this program to work.

I’d printed out what my colleague LW (stands for Little Weasel, if you’re asking) had thought a sufficient Statement of Work to write an RFP for the system—five grafs of airy-fairy prose on the overall program and some (not all) of what the system needed to manage. And I’d printed out what I’d created: multiple spreadsheets, one for each module, showing what functionality was required, who the users were, how it should scale, when it needed to be in place and what modules it needed to connect with. I also had a column of questions that JC and LW need to answer about how the program operated, because they’re key to what functionality gets developed.

I pointed out to SM that my spreadsheets were what enabled four companies to submit proposals to scope the requirements; that I’d asked clarifying questions that already lowered the costs from one of them; that this was my area of expertise and I am uniquely qualified to bridge this organization to the technocrats; and that neither LW nor JC has these capabilities.

Well, SM agreed with me, and said she’d intended to propose something similar. I can’t be a “contractor” for some reason, but I can be an “on-call temp”, so she went down to HR to get that started. Interestingly, she did not inquire what I might charge for these services. Also, interestingly, her only reference to my situation was to inquire if I’d had “the conversation with HR”, about being let go. It may have been news to her that the next day was my last.

Later, LW himself popped in my door to ask if I’d have time the next day to “discuss the proposals”. I told him I could do it in the morning. He muttered something about maybe JC could come in “early” and join us. The meeting request that arrived later was for 0930, so you get a taste of what “early” means for her.

Early on Thursday (like 0630) I sent SM an email outlining what I thought was the best way to proceed. Including:

“I’d be very excited to lead the charge on scoping, building and implementing the IT. As discussed, I have the high level program knowledge that an outsider wouldn’t, plus I speak software. That positions me uniquely to drive this project efficiently. I’d love to do that. It would need to be clearly communicated internally and externally that I’m the point person, because muddying the waters on this kind of thing slows the drive and ends up costing the client more. You’d be hiring me to do the opposite.

“As I was running through my IT modules spreadsheet, it’s clear that in order to give the IT building company intelligent guidance on what the system should include, [PROGRAM] management needs to begin NOW to work out a lot more operational detail than currently exists.

“Above all else: [PROGRAM] absolutely has to set a date for launch, and be working toward that. It’s already slipped from January 2020 to Q3, and I am not sanguine about that. You do not get do-overs in this kind of thing, not when you’re playing on the field with Harvard, Stanford, UofI and Georgia Tech. I cannot flog this deceased equine hard enough. Aside from the financial implications I mentioned yesterday, we get one single chance to launch this right. I don’t know how we recover if we flub it, and this concerns me no end.”

She acknowledged my arguments, and said “I get it”. Huh. See below.

On Thursday, at 0930, I met with JC and LW in a conference room for one of the most bizarre experiences of my professional life.

I waited for LW to start the discussion—he called the meeting after all. He stacked the four proposals in front of him and faffed about until I just dove in with my comments to the effect that by asking my first round of clarifying questions, I’d at least got the bids so that we could compare pricing models, but we should now ask more questions about the approaches.

There was silence, then LW wanted to know what he should do next—eliminate two of the four and carry on discussions with the remaining two? If so, which two? Should he leave one large company and one small one? What?

I replied that we should ask questions of all of them that provide information to make an informed decision. JC chirped that she knew nothing about any of the companies, except [name]. She thought she used to see their commercials on TV. I said, “That would have been an insurance company.” And she got the order of the initials wrong.

Oh.

LW mused that, well, he’d been talking with the portfolio manager in our company IT, and she’s interested in weighing in on this (both IT and my colleagues have been extremely clear for months that neither wants anything to do with the other), so perhaps he should consult her. JC opined that this person never gets anything done, but, “You’re the boss.”

Now, it’s interesting that LW has been having these conversations without involving me, both in light of his contempt for IT and because I’m the only person on the project who’s got any software expertise, much less has been doing anything actively about getting this built. But apparently he’s the boss.

LW said he was concerned about spending money to have in-person meetings with whoever gets the scoping job. We should do as much as possible remotely. We have some money, but still… JC added that she’s had “casual” conversations with “IT people in the DC area” and they’ve assured her that you can’t build this complex a system for less than a million dollars.

Oh? Would these by any chance be people interesting in getting the contract to build it? Maybe?

Well, I ignored that and told them once again that they can’t launch this show without the IT in place, and that every day they have not launched is another day deeper into the red. JC confided, “SM won’t listen to that.” I replied that SM and I had discussed this and she understands it. I told them they need to set a realistic launch date and work toward it. JC asked me what deadline I would set; I pointed out that they need to figure out what “launch” looks like, add up everything that needs to go into it and drive the stake into the ground. She gave her customary response: “It always takes longer than you think it will to get something done here, so you might as well prepare for that.”

Yeah, no—that does not feed the bulldog. But these two will never grasp that.

Fortunately, someone else had booked the conference room at 1000, so we had to leave spot on the hour. I returned to my office and called my contacts at the four companies to let them know that I was leaving the project, that I might be back as a consultant to run the IT project, but that if not, LW would be point man moving forward. I then wrote emails to each of the four, copying him, to share his contact details.

About 15 minutes passed, and this came into my queue from him:

“Can you provide a bit of context regarding these e-mails?”

I pointed out the obvious:

“Person 1, Person 2, Person 3 and Person 4 are the points of contact for Company A, Company B, Company C and Company D, respectively. You’ve ‘met’ three of them on con calls.”

And this came back:

“Yes, I remember that. Should I be expecting a call from them or is there an action they are expecting me to follow up with?”

Completely gobsmacked, I waited about half an hour and replied:

“Not sure how to answer. These are the points of contact for any activities moving forward. [Man—it is hard to get down to sock puppets in email.] Likewise they need a POC in [PROGRAM]. We discussed asking questions; having their details will enable you to do that.”

Well, a few minutes later he drifted into my doorway and mumbled that he just wasn’t sure how to proceed. What questions should he ask?

“Ask whatever you need to ask to be able to make a decision.”

“Well, and you’ll help…”

“Today’s my last day.”

More mumbling about not being sure what to do, followed by, “And then we reach out to you for your input…”

“[Weasel], today’s my last day.”

Bewilderment. “I thought SM said you’d be available…”

“Nothing’s been worked out, and I’d only come back to run this IT project.”

“I seem to be always late learning things.”

Yeah, no kidding. One of the things to which you’re late is understanding that I am not your handmaiden, and you cannot expect to pass off my expertise as your work. You think you’re the boss? Suck it up.

Well, but wait—the day’s not over yet.

I’d chatted with SM about asking the help desk to not expunge my email account—cut me off, yes, but leave the account there, because the continuity of messages would be useful for consulting. I got that sorted, turned in my laptop and went to SM’s office to say goodbye. She barely knew I was there. But she did say, “I put in the paperwork. For 20%.”

Me: “Twenty percent of what?”

SM: “Twenty percent of your current salary.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. That’s not how it works, hon. I tell you what my hourly rate is, and we go from there. Twenty percent will not feed the bulldog. She also seemed surprised that I said I’d told LW I’d be managing the IT development if I came back. So much for “getting” my email that morning. Obviously, there would be no improved communications and I’d still be pushing the rock up the hill.

But I said, “I’ll take a look at it.” And left. I dumped my badge with HR on my way out and took what I hope will be my last Metro commute for a long time. That was Thursday and I've heard nothing since then. When I said in the employee exit survey that I was worried about the viability of this program, it was exactly this sort of thing that I meant.

P.S. Not one word of farewell or best wishes from any of the three people on my "team" Not a peep.