So...yesterday was my birthday. Yay. Whoopty-do. Boo-yah.
Sure didn't feel like a day worth celebrating.
At work there was recently rolled out - in less than two weeks - an entirely new platform for external contractors to log in to. It went live the day before my birthday. It went live with some testing and checking, but little to no input from - or communication with - the external contractors.
So what happens less than an hour after this new platform goes live? Service Desk gets hit with calls about how things have changed, it all looks different, it all acts different, they can't work the way they used to...and all we can do is tell them "We don't know, we found out about the same time you did". That was Thursday.
Friday - the day of my birthday - I arrived at work and walked into a shitstorm of the same. Fielding calls about this new platform basically sucked up the day. It means that all the things I wanted to get done, and needed to get done, got pushed to the side. The only glimmer of light about the day was that I got to do some decent testing with this new platform to work out some of the functionality of it, and basically managed to write up what amounts to a half-decent user guide for the external contractors.
But the icing on the cake - so to speak - was when I finally got home.
We were booked to go out to dinner for my birthday. I made the reservations myself. I knew I had to watch the clock, and I was watching it. But the way the day panned out, I was late leaving work, much later than I wanted to be. By the time I got home, I had about 15 minutes before we had to leave to go out to dinner.
The wife had planned to have a relaxing time with me before we went out - a bit of relaxing time, a small celebration of sorts, give presents, that sort of thing. But it didn't happen because my workday sucked up more time than I'd intended. It wasn't my fault. If I didn't have to go out to dinner, I could have easily spent another hour at the office getting things done. But I didn't; I left things incomplete (which I hate doing) and came home.
And somehow, I was the bad guy. She may not have meant it that way, but my wife gave me a look that made me feel like my crap workday taking up a lot of time was my fault.