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Forgive me, this is probably going to be a long post. It will be filled with a little bit some a shitload of frustration venting. And a fair amount of geek speak.
The first milestone of my project at work was due yesterday.
Basically this project is the complete redesign from the ground up of an existing web application.
In the initial meetings about the project I was handed a 45 page “Application Report” that was written last May and told in all seriousness that it was “The Bible” I needed to follow. These meetings also consisted of hot debates about the new database structure, and the application was whittled down from 42 data tables to 23.
During subsequent meetings, whenever I had a question (rare, because most of the time the discussion didn’t concern me even slightly), I was referred repeatedly to “The Bible.” The first few times I politely reminded everyone that the database structure and therefore all of the functions it outlined were no longer valid.
About a month ago, after hearing the eleventy-millionth “Bible” reference, I slightly lost my cool. I *may* have thrown the report out of the conference room and demanded that they “not ever refer to that document again. It’s trash!” Or I may have snorted and rolled my eyes a lot. My memory is a little bit fuzzy.
(I realize this is really boring, but it’s necessary backstory. Think of it like the first 2 hours and 45 minutes of Titanic.)
Here’s how today’s meeting went:
Supervisor: “Katie (the project lead from Montreal) and I are very upset that you are designing this application however you feel appropriate.”
Jester: “I’m following the example of the existing application and replicating those pages with the new data structure. Am I missing something?”
Supervisor: “You are supposed to be following the guidelines from this report.” He pulled out the “Bible.”
Jester: “That report isn’t relevant since the data structure was changed.”
Supervisor: (getting visibly irritated) “I don’t believe that is the case. Bring up your design and show me the page.”
I brought the application page up on my giant 22″ monitor and maximized it.
Supervisor: “Now, bring up the original application.”
I brought up the corresponding page in the original application.
Supervisor: “See, look here. Where is this information [tapping my monitor] in the new application?”
Jester: “That data table was removed from the new application.”
Supervisor: “And this?”
Jester: “That one too. Plus this [tap] this one [tap] and everything in this section [tap]. It was decided those tables were not necessary.”
Supervisor: “Who decided that?”
Jester: “You and Katie. I have notes and emails confirming the changes.”
Supervisor: “Well look, this page isn’t built to the specifications in the report. This page is supposed to be showing Company information.”
Jester: “It is.”
At this point he SNATCHED the mouse out of my hand and for some reason minimized the browser window to roughly the size of a postage stamp and began to squint at the screen to read it. He then switched between the two applications, apparently trying to match data between the two pages.
There was much gesticulating and grunting while he flipped back and forth and back and forth moving his face closer to the screen in an effort to see the now tiny type. I physically had to sit on my hands to keep myself from taking control of the mouse and maximizing the screen.
Supervisor: “This page does not match the report! I told you this report is THE BIBLE of this application!!!”
Why yes, he did speak with exclamation points. Who’s telling this story anyway?
At this point I’ve had about enough of this circular conversation.
Jester: “Look, Supervisor, this report is about as useful to me in writing this application as the ACTUAL Bible would be. It’s worthless. I can’t follow it because it’s completely different now.”
[ignoring me] Supervisor: “Look here…it is NOT wrong.”
He rose about halfway out of the chair, moved closer to me, and shoved the report under my nose. With his finger he traced along with the words as he READ ALOUD to me:
“Section 4.1.4: The Company details page lists the company details on the top half of the page, including the address and contact information for the chosen company. The bottom half of the page shows Gizmos offered by the Company in a repeated list.”
He finished the paragraph with a smug smile.
Jester: “Supervisor, you just described the page we’re looking at, exactly. This [pointing to the top half of the page] is the Company information, and this [pointing to the bottom half of the screen] is the Gizmo list.”
Supervisor: [incredibly pissed now] “AHA! (who says aha!? oh, right. PH.D’s.) So you’re saying that this report is RIGHT!”
Jester: “…no… a single paragraph in that 45 page document happens to be correct. If you want to be technical about it, I could say that I *DID* follow that report.”
Supervisor: “…”
His face turned purple, and I thought he was going to fall over dead of a heart attack (which would make him the second person this week to die in my building of a heart attack, btw).
Supervisor: “Bring up your email.”
Jester: “Um. Ok.”
Supervisor: “Where’s the email from this morning?”
Jester: “Wha-”
Supervisor: “I SENT YOU an EMAIL THIS MORNing.”
Jester: “I don’t seem to have any email from you this morning.”
Supervisor: [exasperated sigh] “Oh for crying out loud, you must have deleted it! I’ll go print it out!” [storms out of my office]
Supervisor: “Here!” [thrusts an email into my hand and the promptly snatches it back] “I’ll READ it to you.”
Apparently somewhere between the parking lot and the 4th floor of my building I have lost the ability to read. I guess it’s a good thing that I have memorized the number of steps from the door way to the entrance of my office, otherwise I might not have ever found my way in time for this thrilling meeting.
The gist of the email being read to me like I’m a preschooler is that he is again “very concerned” that I don’t seem to be following the guidelines of “The Bible.” His solution is that I will now be required to stop all application coding and switch to documenting every single webpage and function that I plan to create and the exact process a user will go through to extract desired data from the application.
I don’t know if any of you are familiar with the process of application development, but it is NOT the job of the programmer to define the requirements and the user process. How would the programmer know what the application is supposed to do?
– Begin Aside
Here’s a simple metaphor: If you came to me and said, “Make me a sandwich,” and I say, “What kind?” “You know, a good one.” Umm.. ok. So I make you a sandwich from the ingredients in your refrigerator and bring it to you. “This isn’t a ham sandwich!” you declare. “It’s prosciutto, which is a type of ham,” I respond. “And this bread is not toasted!” you complain. “Well… you *did* make me throw away the toaster…”
/Aside
Is now a good time to mention that I am not a PROGRAMMER? I am a web designer with a strong background in marketing, promotions, communications, and technical/copywriting.
Supervisor: “…you also need to document the process that each user goes through to arrive on the specified page. 4(b) You should also…”
Jester: [interrupting reading hour] “It’s weird that I don’t have a copy of that email. I never delete anything. I still have every email I received over the entire 5 years when I was here before…”
Supervisor: “I didn’t send it. It was still in my outbox.”
Jester: “…”
Supervisor: “Well I think you understand what I’m getting at and now you have the email to refer to. I want to meet with you in person every morning to discuss your progress on the documentation.”
So if I understand the situation correctly, I’ve designed a page that works within the specifications provided to me, using the data available to me, almost on schedule, and my supervisor is mad at me about it.
I left my office at lunch, I took my personal affects with me.
I am the wrong person for this job. I do not have the skills they need. They do not know what they want. The only thing they have agreed on is that they don’t like the job that I am doing.
I’m a uniter.
I really need the job, but it is not right for me. It’s not on my “career path” such as it is. There is no step up from where I am. There is no opportunity to learn the latest technologies. I hate feeling trapped in a situation because of a mortgage and debts, but it’s also not fair of me to continue wasting their time when there is a deadline for the project that I’m obviously not going to be able to design to their liking.
I’m putting off the decision as to whether or not I will be going in for my 10AM meeting Monday until Sunday evening.
I appreciate that you “get it.” 
