IT Unprofessional

People keep asking me how I got into IT.

I got into IT because I was too socially awkward for sales and too impatient for engineering.

In 2009, I was the only IT person at a 40-person startup.

Everything was my fault. Server down? My fault. Email slow? My fault. Someone's laptop got a virus because they opened an email from their own mother? Also my fault, apparently.

One day the CEO asked me why our internet was "acting slow." I told him it was probably DNS. I had no idea what DNS was. I just knew it was the answer to everything.

He asked me to fix it. I told him I needed $8K in equipment and three weeks.

I spent two weeks watching YouTube videos about DNS, bought $200 in equipment, and told him it was fixed.

It wasn't. The internet was still slow. But nobody asked about it again because a month later the company ran out of money and shut down.

I got hired at the next place and immediately told them our DNS was probably the problem. They believed me. That was 15 years ago.

I'm now an IT Director at a Fortune 500 company. My entire career is built on the fact that I got lucky once and nobody's fact-checked me since.

Last month someone asked me a technical question during a meeting and I just said "DNS" and everyone nodded and moved on.

I'm convinced my entire C-suite reputation is based on a YouTube video from 2009 I watched while pretending to work.

My daughter turned an $11 fee-saving automation into a $32 monthly ice-cream budget.

Her school lunch app charged $2.75 every time I added money.

I was usually adding $20.

That’s an outrageous tax on chicken nuggets.

The mobile app only offered card payments with the fee.

The website had a buried bank-transfer option with free automatic reloads.

I set it to add $25 whenever the balance dropped below $5.

Then I forgot about it.

A month later, the account had reloaded 4 times.

I checked the transactions.

She’d discovered the cafeteria sells ice cream for $2.

Almost every day.

I saved roughly $11 in payment fees.

She spent $32 on ice cream.

The automation worked flawlessly.

I optimized the toll booth.

She built a highway.

My dentist tried to fine me $50 for being 11 minutes late after making me wait 37 minutes last visit.

I took that personally.

A receptionist pointed to the late-arrival policy on the counter.

She said anything over 10 minutes could be charged.

I opened the appointment portal.

My previous visit showed CHECKED IN at 9:02 and SEEN at 9:39.

Then I pulled 3 more visits.

Average wait: 29 minutes.

I asked if the policy worked both directions.

She laughed.

I didn’t.

She removed the fee.

At my next appointment, I arrived 8 minutes early.

A dentist saw me 34 minutes late.

He apologized and started talking about traffic.

I smiled.

My teeth are clean.

The spreadsheet is still on my phone.

I’m 1 bad appointment away from invoicing them.

I made the company pay $80 to transport my clothes by packing 1 cable tester.

Travel reimburses checked bags when employees carry required company equipment.

I wanted a full-size suitcase without paying $40 each way.

So I packed my clothes, shoes, and 1 company-issued tester.

At check-in, I paid for the bag.

On the expense report, I selected EQUIPMENT TRANSPORT.

A travel auditor asked what equipment I’d carried.

I sent her a photo of the tester beside my laptop.

She approved the $80.

The tester never left the suitcase.

Neither did the Ethernet cable beside it.

I wore 3 outfits, used the hotel gym once, and brought home 2 bottles of wine.

The company did not pay to transport my wardrobe.

It paid to transport a cable tester with 47 pounds of emotional support clothing.

The company’s new badge lanyard tried to strangle my headphones 6 times before lunch.

HR required visible badges and handed everyone the same scratchy blue cord.

Mine kept catching on my headphones and yanking them off.

I wanted a belt clip.

An HR coordinator said clips were only approved where neckwear created a safety issue.

Useful sentence.

I opened a ticket for Wearable Credential Snag Exposure.

That’s fake safety language for “I hate this lanyard.”

She approved a magnetic clip and marked the exception permanent.

I ordered the nicest leather holder that fit it.

By Friday, 12 people in IT wanted one.

I sent them my ticket language.

Now HR has a growing list of employees with alleged snag hazards.

My badge looks excellent.

The lanyard is in a drawer.

My headphones have made a full recovery.