Well, we did it. We took a 15 year old website and made it shiny brand new (ish). It only took 43 days, one missed deadline, three days off, and 32 people from start to completion.
I have no idea how many hours it took in total, but I can say for certain that on the final day on Thursday, the tally for ‘ole Finnegan here was: 17 hours and 180 miles.
Now comes the next five years. But that can wait. It’s the weekend and I’m still in my pajamas.
That migration project was the last task for me in what was a transition phase of 140 days.
Yesterday was the first day since November 2020 where I didn’t experience some type of mini panic work-related attack. You know, that out of nowhere 5 second “oh shit” movement that targets your chest and temporarily makes you blind?
Instead, yesterday the most profound thing to strike me was when I realised I will never be someone who organises their spice drawer, let alone own a spice drawer.
I’ve always been a bit of drama nerd when it comes to my career. My Irish Twin is similar if not worse.
I take work so seriously: Whether it’s routing a shelf or taking orders or designing a website … it makes not a difference. I do it all with focus and without fuss, and mean it with every ounce of my heart.
I have only three demands for my professional life:
- I require all intellectual properties of and physical access to my job.
- I must admire the leadership.
- I absolutely have to respect the people around me.
When one of those fails? It’s a fail for all. And it’s so disappointing.
This has happened to me twice. Once in 2013. And once 2019.
In 2013 number 3 failed first, and I made the mistake of staying in that toxic environment for an additional 4 years. That decision was the downfall of many things in my life … like my entire soul. It took me literally moving away to heal the wound which is now a scar. I’ve written about this time before, no need to rehash.
In 2019, well, I’ll not offer details. Only suffice to say in two languages: C’était un, deux et trois … ολα μαζι.
Hint: the last bit is Greek and means all together or at the same time.
Taking a hard lessons-learned from 2013, when ολα μαζι (pronounced ola mazi) reared its unattractive head in 2019 … instead of staying, I took a look at my expenses and what I had in the bank. I then said thank you but no thank you, opened the sunroof, turned up the tunes and drove away.
I had no fall back plan either, except my migre savings. I didn’t care. I just knew that rinsing and repeating 2013 was going to damage the core of my entire being, and extinguish my professional raison d’etre.
I won’t characterise my workplace passion as an inflection. It’s more like an addiction to happiness and peace. My cessation of suffering. My nirvana, if you will.
It’s all internal, of course. I’m not literally suffering or making myself a nuisance at dinner parties.
I’m a fairly cool cat on the outside.
Cue the violins!
Giving myself permission to take a break in 2019 was the smartest, healthiest thing I have ever done for myself. So much so, if we all lived in Utopia, taking mandatory time off to not be a part of time is an eye-opening luxury.
Like the movie Holiday:
Johnny Case : I don’t call what I’ve been doing living.
Linda Seton : And what do you recommend for yourself, doctor?
Johnny Case : A holiday.
Linda Seton : For how long?
Johnny Case : As long as I need.
Linda Seton : You mean just to play?
Johnny Case : No. I’ve been working since I was 10. I want to find out why I’m working. It can’t just be to pay bills and pile up more money. Even if you do, the government’s going to take most of it.
Linda Seton : But what is the answer?
Johnny Case : I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out. The world’s changing out there. There are a lot of new, exciting ideas running around. Some may be right and some may be cockeyed but they’re affecting all our lives. I want to know how I stand, where I fit in the picture, what it’s all gonna mean to me. I can’t find that out sitting behind some desk in an office, so as soon as I get enough money together, I’m going to knock off for a while.
It all seems so clear now.
Why? Why, aren’t we born with insight?
2019 was my time to reflect. Reflect on my Father. Take ownership of my future. Remove the shackles of the past.
I went on three roadtrips. I visited my Mum often. I wrote, read, planted flowers. I met people in the middle of the day. I thought about stuff like the planet Pluto (yeah, you heard me). I listened to people tell jokes. I visited art museums on a Tuesday.
Then I got lucky, really lucky, and was allowed back into the fray. Only this time I ensured there were boundaries and balances built it.
I had to check my mental temperature a few times during this project after I panicked when I lost the path amongst the leaves. I seemed to always find another path.
I’m pleased to report today that is it is all good. I’m still wearing my badge. I’m still cueing the orchestra. Still swooning over each dotted ‘i’ … over every crossed ‘t’. Still suffering for my art (see previous post).
And I plan to be happily doing so come Monday, which also happens to be Day 4 of the next 5 years.