Why do developers constantly make mistakes when assessing deadlines by a factor of 2-3?
Like we decided to walk along the coast from San Francisco to Los Angeles to visit friends in Newport Beach. I took out a map and drew our route along the coast:
The length is about 400 miles; we walk about 4 miles per hour, 10 hours a day, in short we will arrive in 10 days. We called friends and arranged for dinner on the following Sunday, when we arrive in triumph at exactly 6 pm They can't wait!
The next day, we cheerfully got up very early in anticipation of new adventures. We collected backpacks, unfolded the map to plan our first day. Wow:
')
Wow, here are a couple of thousands of twists and turns. After traveling 40 miles today, we barely leave Half Moon Bay. So, we have to go more than 500 miles, not 400. We called friends and moved dinner on Tuesday. Better to be realistic. Of course, they were upset, but still they are looking forward to us. Yes, and 12 days instead of 10 is still pretty good.
Leaving behind this annoying nuisance, we set off. Two hours later, we just passed the zoo. What's the matter? And you look at the trail:
Yes, here you can barely crawl! Sand, water, streams, angry sea lions! We walked at a speed of about 2 miles per hour, 2 times less than planned. We either have to go 20 hours a day, or have to postpone a meeting with friends for another week. Ok, let's try to find a compromise: we will go 12 hours a day, and we will transfer friends for the weekend. Called friends, moved dinner the next Sunday. Some irritation was felt, but oh well, see you soon ...
We camped at Moss Beach after a hard 12-hour day. Hell, we seem to have been setting these fucking tents for ages. Fell asleep only by midnight. And, the trouble is not great, tomorrow we will correct everything, increasing the speed.
We overslept and woke up exhausted and sick at 10 am. Shit! Today, there is no way to do 12 hours. We will go 10 hours, tomorrow we will do 14. Gather things, let's go.
After a couple of hours of nonstop walking, I noticed that my friend was starting to limp. Corns, oh shit. We need to deal with this now ... we are one of those teams that nip problems in the bud, before they can slow us down. For 45 minutes, I ran 3 miles to Pescadero, bought all sorts of bandages, patches and quickly returned to patch my friend. I was exhausted, and the sun was already drooping, in short, the day was lost. We went to sleep, having covered only 6 miles per day. But we procured. Everything will be fine. Tomorrow we catch up.
The next morning, woke up, patched the feet and go. Turned the corner. Oh shit! What is it?
There was no shit on our fucking card! I had to move away from the coast for 3 miles, bypassing the fenced, state-protected land. A couple of times they went astray and finally returned to the shoreline by noon. Most of the day went on to overcome the 1 mile route. Ok, we * didn't * call friends to reschedule dinner. Stomped until midnight, trying to catch up with the schedule.
After a night of restless sleep on a foggy shore, my friend woke up with a terrible headache and temperature. I asked him if he could continue the rally ... “You, asshole, have completely lost your mind. I walked in the fog through the cold for three days without rest! ”Ok, the day is lost. Let's slow down and rest. Tomorrow we will be able to do 14 hours, as we rest, and, after all, we get into shape ... There are still a few days, we will do it!
The next day we got up sluggishly. I looked at the map:
Fucking heaven! We start the 5th day of our “10-day” journey and still have not left the Bay Area area of ​​San Francisco! This is ridiculous! Let's just count everything, call your friends back, of course they will yell at us, but it’s better to set a real goal for yourself once and for all.
My friend began to figure out, OK, we walked 40 miles in 4 days, and we walked about 600 miles, that is, somewhere 60 days, 70 better, to be sure. I said: “Yes, they ... I’m like ... no, I certainly did not take this route before, but I * know for sure * that the journey from San Francisco to Los Angeles cannot take 70 days. Our friends will simply die with laughter if we call them and say that we will not reach them before Easter! ”
I continued: “If we can do 16 hours a day, we will catch up with the time! It will be difficult, but we, blya ... db will break through! ". A friend began to shout: “Actually, it was not me who stared at this, telling friends that we would be with them on Sunday. You are driving me like a horse just because you made a mistake yourself! ”
Tense silence hung between us. The phone call was not made. I will call tomorrow, when my friend comes to his senses and deigns to offer something reasonable.
The next morning we stayed in tents, waiting for the end of the shower. Gathered things and set off somewhere in the 10, after stretching the muscles and putting in order new corns. They did not talk about the previous quarrel, although I could not resist not to bark at my idiotic friend, when he forgot a bottle of water and we had to return, having wasted 30 minutes.
I noted to myself that we had run out of toilet paper and that it would be necessary to shop in the nearest town. We turned a corner: a turbulent river blocked our path, and I felt the most powerful and inevitable urges of diarrhea come closer and closer ...
The length is about 400 miles; we walk about 4 miles per hour, 10 hours a day, in short we will arrive in 10 days. We called friends and arranged for dinner on the following Sunday, when we arrive in triumph at exactly 6 pm They can't wait!
The next day, we cheerfully got up very early in anticipation of new adventures. We collected backpacks, unfolded the map to plan our first day. Wow:
')
Wow, here are a couple of thousands of twists and turns. After traveling 40 miles today, we barely leave Half Moon Bay. So, we have to go more than 500 miles, not 400. We called friends and moved dinner on Tuesday. Better to be realistic. Of course, they were upset, but still they are looking forward to us. Yes, and 12 days instead of 10 is still pretty good.
Leaving behind this annoying nuisance, we set off. Two hours later, we just passed the zoo. What's the matter? And you look at the trail:
Yes, here you can barely crawl! Sand, water, streams, angry sea lions! We walked at a speed of about 2 miles per hour, 2 times less than planned. We either have to go 20 hours a day, or have to postpone a meeting with friends for another week. Ok, let's try to find a compromise: we will go 12 hours a day, and we will transfer friends for the weekend. Called friends, moved dinner the next Sunday. Some irritation was felt, but oh well, see you soon ...
We camped at Moss Beach after a hard 12-hour day. Hell, we seem to have been setting these fucking tents for ages. Fell asleep only by midnight. And, the trouble is not great, tomorrow we will correct everything, increasing the speed.
We overslept and woke up exhausted and sick at 10 am. Shit! Today, there is no way to do 12 hours. We will go 10 hours, tomorrow we will do 14. Gather things, let's go.
After a couple of hours of nonstop walking, I noticed that my friend was starting to limp. Corns, oh shit. We need to deal with this now ... we are one of those teams that nip problems in the bud, before they can slow us down. For 45 minutes, I ran 3 miles to Pescadero, bought all sorts of bandages, patches and quickly returned to patch my friend. I was exhausted, and the sun was already drooping, in short, the day was lost. We went to sleep, having covered only 6 miles per day. But we procured. Everything will be fine. Tomorrow we catch up.
The next morning, woke up, patched the feet and go. Turned the corner. Oh shit! What is it?
There was no shit on our fucking card! I had to move away from the coast for 3 miles, bypassing the fenced, state-protected land. A couple of times they went astray and finally returned to the shoreline by noon. Most of the day went on to overcome the 1 mile route. Ok, we * didn't * call friends to reschedule dinner. Stomped until midnight, trying to catch up with the schedule.
After a night of restless sleep on a foggy shore, my friend woke up with a terrible headache and temperature. I asked him if he could continue the rally ... “You, asshole, have completely lost your mind. I walked in the fog through the cold for three days without rest! ”Ok, the day is lost. Let's slow down and rest. Tomorrow we will be able to do 14 hours, as we rest, and, after all, we get into shape ... There are still a few days, we will do it!
The next day we got up sluggishly. I looked at the map:
Fucking heaven! We start the 5th day of our “10-day” journey and still have not left the Bay Area area of ​​San Francisco! This is ridiculous! Let's just count everything, call your friends back, of course they will yell at us, but it’s better to set a real goal for yourself once and for all.
My friend began to figure out, OK, we walked 40 miles in 4 days, and we walked about 600 miles, that is, somewhere 60 days, 70 better, to be sure. I said: “Yes, they ... I’m like ... no, I certainly did not take this route before, but I * know for sure * that the journey from San Francisco to Los Angeles cannot take 70 days. Our friends will simply die with laughter if we call them and say that we will not reach them before Easter! ”
I continued: “If we can do 16 hours a day, we will catch up with the time! It will be difficult, but we, blya ... db will break through! ". A friend began to shout: “Actually, it was not me who stared at this, telling friends that we would be with them on Sunday. You are driving me like a horse just because you made a mistake yourself! ”
Tense silence hung between us. The phone call was not made. I will call tomorrow, when my friend comes to his senses and deigns to offer something reasonable.
The next morning we stayed in tents, waiting for the end of the shower. Gathered things and set off somewhere in the 10, after stretching the muscles and putting in order new corns. They did not talk about the previous quarrel, although I could not resist not to bark at my idiotic friend, when he forgot a bottle of water and we had to return, having wasted 30 minutes.
I noted to myself that we had run out of toilet paper and that it would be necessary to shop in the nearest town. We turned a corner: a turbulent river blocked our path, and I felt the most powerful and inevitable urges of diarrhea come closer and closer ...
Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/204284/
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