Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2013-04-05 01:51 am
azurelunatic) wrote2013-04-05 01:51 am
Entry tags:
What did I do on Thursday?
I woke up with what I suspect was a bit of a hangover. Only expected, as I don't really tend to drink, and I had that homemade Minnesota Tidal Wave (attempted) and then went straight to bed only drinking a little water, as opposed to my usual plan of staying awake until fully sober and hydrated.
I got dressed, poked the internet a bit, and went to work.
I was not entirely happy being at work at that hour (8am) but I had a 9am meeting and then a 10am one, and I had to prepare for the 10am one. Therefore, early.
An internal-facing developer team is building an internal-facing application for me. (Basically. As the Minion, I am the primary user.) And you thought Kipper/Llama was terrifying. Oi.
It took two cups of coffee and a spreadsheet sorting my complaints and the existing open Bugzilla entries and the severity and priority for me to actually figure out what I was going to tell my team (well, in a form more professional and organized than a string of profanity).
My priorities:
Sort by the whole goddamned data set, not just the fucking page.
Allow logging of multiple "touches", which we thought had been communicated to them already in the requirements phase.
That really pretty collection of data? Entirely backwards.
This amazingly common workflow? WHY DO I HAVE TO GO TWO PLACES.
My team's initial concerns before I started not-swearing:
Enlarge the fucking page that is being sorted (see above about the whole goddamned data set)
What about email integration (see also: multiple touches) already?
BACKWARDS WHY IS THIS DATA BACKWARDS FOR FUCK'S SAKE THE MOCKUPS HAD IT RIGHT
and also their eyes are bleeding
The devs' stated top priorities:
Highlight the item you were just working on.
I spent the rest of the morning and a significant part of the afternoon taking the stray profanity out of my requests, and filing them in Bugzilla. The Junior Researcher is point man with the devs on this. I suspect I am not allowed in the same room with the number one dev, because I am a grenade of why-cannot-I-just-do-my-job angst, and righteous fury at a requirements document poorly met, and the number one dev (junior dev, not senior dev) is a very shy woman with a nervous disposition. The Kipper/Llama team is composed of resilient senior devs who can take everything I can throw, and sometimes I pitch chocolate. Not so her.
The rest of my afternoon was wrangling various components of meetings. I tried to duck out early, but Designer Psy (his Halloween costume) accompanied me as far as the break room explaining his plans for hack days and my role in them.
I wanted to get out as early as possible, on account of last night I noticed when pulling into my garage spot, that the light profile on the concrete in front of me was not that of two working headlights. Thus I spent a cozy hour in my mechanic's waiting room with the end of Let's Pretend This Never Happened while they replaced my driver's side headlight. (I could, technically, see in my garage without the headlights, but the headlights give me better information on my attitude in relation to the great big fucking concrete pillar which I rather urgently don't want to smack into.)
Headlight having been accomplished, I came home and collapsed in front of the computer. Also I scheduled some conference rooms for Designer Psy.
I may well be able to do anything I need to do tomorrow from home. I like that idea. If my aunt is up for movie night, she gets to read Let's Pretend This Never Happened next.
I got dressed, poked the internet a bit, and went to work.
I was not entirely happy being at work at that hour (8am) but I had a 9am meeting and then a 10am one, and I had to prepare for the 10am one. Therefore, early.
An internal-facing developer team is building an internal-facing application for me. (Basically. As the Minion, I am the primary user.) And you thought Kipper/Llama was terrifying. Oi.
It took two cups of coffee and a spreadsheet sorting my complaints and the existing open Bugzilla entries and the severity and priority for me to actually figure out what I was going to tell my team (well, in a form more professional and organized than a string of profanity).
My priorities:
Sort by the whole goddamned data set, not just the fucking page.
Allow logging of multiple "touches", which we thought had been communicated to them already in the requirements phase.
That really pretty collection of data? Entirely backwards.
This amazingly common workflow? WHY DO I HAVE TO GO TWO PLACES.
My team's initial concerns before I started not-swearing:
Enlarge the fucking page that is being sorted (see above about the whole goddamned data set)
What about email integration (see also: multiple touches) already?
BACKWARDS WHY IS THIS DATA BACKWARDS FOR FUCK'S SAKE THE MOCKUPS HAD IT RIGHT
and also their eyes are bleeding
The devs' stated top priorities:
Highlight the item you were just working on.
I spent the rest of the morning and a significant part of the afternoon taking the stray profanity out of my requests, and filing them in Bugzilla. The Junior Researcher is point man with the devs on this. I suspect I am not allowed in the same room with the number one dev, because I am a grenade of why-cannot-I-just-do-my-job angst, and righteous fury at a requirements document poorly met, and the number one dev (junior dev, not senior dev) is a very shy woman with a nervous disposition. The Kipper/Llama team is composed of resilient senior devs who can take everything I can throw, and sometimes I pitch chocolate. Not so her.
The rest of my afternoon was wrangling various components of meetings. I tried to duck out early, but Designer Psy (his Halloween costume) accompanied me as far as the break room explaining his plans for hack days and my role in them.
I wanted to get out as early as possible, on account of last night I noticed when pulling into my garage spot, that the light profile on the concrete in front of me was not that of two working headlights. Thus I spent a cozy hour in my mechanic's waiting room with the end of Let's Pretend This Never Happened while they replaced my driver's side headlight. (I could, technically, see in my garage without the headlights, but the headlights give me better information on my attitude in relation to the great big fucking concrete pillar which I rather urgently don't want to smack into.)
Headlight having been accomplished, I came home and collapsed in front of the computer. Also I scheduled some conference rooms for Designer Psy.
I may well be able to do anything I need to do tomorrow from home. I like that idea. If my aunt is up for movie night, she gets to read Let's Pretend This Never Happened next.
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I HAVE SOME VALID QUESTIONS.
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