eight to late

This is a tale of distress
caused by a system on Access,
which failed one day
in a spectacular way,
leaving users in a bit of a mess.

File-based databases are prone
to crashing for reasons unknown.
So it was no surprise
to the IT guy.
“I knew it would happen,” he groaned.

The boss went totally ballistic,
turning red and apoplectic.
He told the IT guy,
“It will be good-bye
unless you get off your rear and fix it.”

On hearing he could be history,
the IT guy rolled up his sleeves
and tried to revive
the system that died,
but gray stayed the monitor screen.

The lesson to learn from this tale
is to backup your systems each day.
Disaster can strike
any time, day or night .
Be prepared! It’s the only way.

Gathered there was the whole team,
at the late project’s autopsy.
They laid no blame,
but it was me - oh shame!
It was all my fault as you’ll see.

It started out feeling great
I’d padded every estimate
with lot of air,
much time to spare.
So why did it turn out so late?

The reality, if truth be told
is that I just cannot behold
the sight of work.
I simply shirk.
Even thinking of it turns me cold.

So, although I say I tried,
I was the reason the project died.
The work on my plate
was always in late,
with excuses that couldn’t be denied.

Procrastination’s the thief of time.
It only makes one fall behind.
So, try if you can
to stick to the plan.
Don’t wait for intervention divine.

——

Other pieces in my five limericks series are:

A project management tragedy in five limericks

A corporate IT tragedy in five limericks

Reply to a corporate IT tragedy in five limericks

Mother Goose for Project Managers - version 0.001:

Little Jack Horner
Little Jack Horner sat in the corner,
watching his budget run dry.
Said he to the sponsor, “The project’s a goner.
and I reckon, so am I.”

Hickory-dickory dock
Hickory-dickory dock
The PM’s in shock.
The project’s aground;
the clock’s run down.
Hickory-dickory dock

Jack be nimble
Jack be nimble,
Jack be quick.
Dodge responsibility,
for it tends to stick.

Hey diddle diddle
Hey diddle diddle, the schedule’s a fiddle.
The deadline’s near; it’s too soon.
The sponsor won’t smile when he sees what’s been done,
especially after being promised the moon.

Hush-a-bye PM
Hush-a-bye PM, on a timeline.
Better wake up now, things aren’t so fine.
The scope is a-creeping, are you on the ball?
No change management will be your downfall.

Schedule, Schedule
Schedule, schedule on the wall,
the PM’s going to take the fall.
’cause everyone can plainly see,
his timeline’s but a fantasy.

The PM can’t sleep
The PM can’t sleep, he’s counting sheep.
The project is what’s troubling him.
Changes galore. Tell you what’s more -
there’s no money left to fund ‘em.

Blah blah PM
Blah blah PM, spouting bull.
I can’t take anymore, my plate’s full.
The workload here is driving me insane.
So I’m leaving for a gig with the mob down the lane.

With apologies to Robert Frost - and a colleague who shall remain nameless.

Whose work this is I think I know.
He hasn’t done a good job though.
He will not see me over here,
reading his drivel pure as snow.
The office cleaners  think it queer
that I’m still working, though midnight’s near.
Between you and me - it’s late,
on the darkest night of the year.
I give my poor head a shake,
and wonder, “Why so many mistakes?”
The only other sound’s the sweep
of the vacuum cleaner’s swift intake.
Slumber beckons, long and deep,
but I have this job to keep,
And files to go before I sleep,
And files to go before I sleep.

A manager’s response to A corporate IT tragedy in five limericks:

I see you have taken offence.
But axing your job made good sense.
You had to go
to save us some dough,
and that’s why you are in past tense.

It broke our hearts to do it,
but it’s because of the market.
Our bottom line
has to climb
a long way to make us a profit.

Let me say this just between us:
For savings, on me was the onus.
And it’s better to see
you gone, than me.
It may even earn me a bonus.

I know you will soon secure
another big fat sinecure.
Where you’ll do no work,
and continue to shirk,
while gaining promotions galore.

And so I bid you adieu;
and many good wishes to you.
See, writing bad verse
may feel good at first,
but later you may just get sued.