One ordinary funny monday

I love the office in the morning. When the dark-quiet open space imperceptibly and in familiar familiar worries, a little is filled with the light and noise of the beginning of the day. Gradually, joyful and contented developers, designers, and testers are crawling in the morning. Work chats come to life. Managers come in a suite of s & s, hr and other hipsters. Very sincere wishes of good morning at coffee machines are distributed and received. A quiet and empty office at the beginning, like an engine, gradually comes to working power, and in the light and hum the working day begins.

In the afternoon there is no time to work. In the morning, noisy talkative extraverted employees run in, waving their iPhones, showing each other instafotochki last weekend. Cool, for IT shnum trimmed, moderately tinted or beards, sports and with pleasure ozapadnennye. Loving muesli for breakfast under fresh / arabica / smoothies. Fun, easy to work and communicate. Charming tusa, with pleasure I spin in it and generally perceive it as a pleasant bonus to my favorite work, with a hugely bloated salary. But to work when the office is filled with their slightly childish desires urgently tell everyone, everyone, everything about the weekend spent, it does not work. Do not even stand at the coffee machine in thought - try, for example, to read a book thoughtfully, when you are yelling about the beauty of a jump from a bridge on an elastic band into one ear - only 200 meters fell, charmingly rounder in unfeigned horror only slightly tinted eyes, the tester was broadcasting Julia. And on the other - no less expressively pull raft on the next weekend on Bug. Against the background of these groovy hares with energy improvers in the asses, we, pale near-shadow shadows, are completely lost or even slightly extroverted. No, well, is it true that there will be on the Bug?

Lunch is coming. Bright personalities that went off over the weekend are gradually drawn into the usual reporting and accompanying rhythm of the working week. Developers are switching from a working mode to a mode of meetings. Someone from the authorities or from subordinates to explain something. To teach someone something or to push somewhere. Drink coffee with a team of testers and coordinate with him the timing of the functional refinement. In general, anything except direct work with the project. Although there are exceptions - one of the teams of developers is indicative of the vyporot and in an emergency mode introduces some urgent changes. Middles and juniors call their commodity trucks - "there is a blockage at work, today it is a tent without me." They are forced to uncover debuggers and sincerely try to find something there. But these are not problems, these are working moments. Programmers need to be taught to keep deadlines while they are still small.

The engine-office in the evening goes dead, but for some reason this moment is harder to catch. It seems that only just unsuccessfully fought back from the company, by all means decided to pull you out to some kind of training on something modern and racially fit, as it was the night outside the window and just chatter the coffee machine ... Well, you understood.
')
And only now, when the tusa is creeping into homes, in events and rallies in low-profile and not so places of the city, does the office belong to us. Those of the fashionable and happy ones that have remained, are already sitting working. And can be seen in the coffee machine with an inward-facing look. Our man, in the evening no one touches such people and does not interrupt them - clearly, the colleague consults with the only clever interlocutor found. The rules of a good tone introverts - go around it, do not touch. Unless turn off the water flowing over the top of the kettle, on which the thoughtful glance of a colleague allegedly slides.

Late Monday evening. I'm at work, habitually fenced off in my own corner of the open space with two twenty + -inch monitors. Almost empty office poluspit in silence and twilight. Only quiet negotiations of the same patients before the work of colleagues and the soft reflection of their own monitors remind of the existence of life in the universe. Oh, yes, the muffled chatter of the coffee machine from the kitchen periodically still flies. After all, a programmer is simply a device for processing coffee into code. So we are sitting in the corners, processing the digested caffeine into lines of code implementing another good idea or a new, urgently needed crutch. We work, in general.

- Gray, we have problems.

I love problems. While there are problems with projects, I will not be without work. Solving problems is a big part of my job.

But evening is an unusual time for problems. The project, being supervised all day, is rarely naughty. This is in the morning, after a whole night without your attention, you can run into a sudden wtf. Hello, work. I love you too, and I miss you. What happened to you during the hours I spent offline? But even in this case, problems usually remind horres left unattended for the weekend of the woman he loves. Well, how are you doing, what did you do, where did you go? What happened? Again, the carburetor knocks and heel on the glue to plant time? Well, let's look.

In the evening, we do the second part of the work - we design and write so that there are fewer problems.

- Gray, real problems.

But the real problems could not be from the word at all. If something was wrong with my project on production, then twelve alarmists — fashionable intelligent third-party services that control the application’s performance, plus one self-tuned oak jenkins base — would have spoiled me not only in the corporate messenger and mail, but also on mobile phone, both calls and messages. Sodom and Gomorrah, to be honest. But on the other hand, it immediately discourages the desire to approach and give out something from the “we have problems” series from those who are involved and not very well-wishers. Now this whole hell orchestra was silent, which meant only one thing - Valery did not have problems, but personally.

Even the fathers of Soviet fiction claimed that the worst thing that could happen to a person at work in the future was an intern. Worse than this, no storms, no epidemics or cataclysms. Worse, there can only be two trainees. And this is also a part of my work - to teach the younger to solve problems. So it did not go around me and this path. And now the path hung nervously over the right ear, obviously eager to confess some kind of yet another created absurd nonsense, and thus accustomed to overthrow the obligation to rake the consequences on me.

“Valerik, even such a consumer of art exclusively in the form of comic books and belching from Hollywood, should know that this phrase does not work without caffeine,” I unsuccessfully tried to transfer everything to the picking zone, but the junior didn’t even grin. - What kind of kitten from which tree should be removed?

“I dropped the base on production,” my protege lowered his eyes modestly.

These are the five words. Nothing can justify Epic Fail himself. But I need the details, and not at all for the sake of torturing the conscience of the stupid. In the coffin, I saw his sense of remorse. I need to quickly understand what he did and quickly fix it. Ridiculous in front of everyone, I will expose him tomorrow. To drop the base on the prode is not forgotten for months.

- dropped or dropped? - Valera saw that they would not beat him now, at least until they lift the base. And quickly turned on.

- I did not drop! There the screws were hot remounted when I did REPAIR TABLE - after seeing how my eyes were bleeding, he quickly added: - on the statistics.

Glory to you, Torvalds, on the statistics. This is an internal service and, for its inability to work, of course someone will write out a pill. But even if this trouble is left untouched overnight, the size of the pill will not exceed the morning oral reprimand from the coffee machine from the testers. At the same time, for the main recumbent base, an office may receive multi-zero lawsuits and, even more sadly, a non-diseased loss of reputation.

That is why, under my production base, the screws could not be remounted, and without my participation, it would be generally from unscientific fantasy. And who, tell me please, to fight when everything goes wrong? And without me, the fun would have gone completely wrong, believe me, this is my base, I set it up.

For a second I had a desire to throw the boy into the water and the hi was swimming. Overnight, he will find a solution anyway. And if not - I'll deal in the morning. And a sleepless night is not the biggest punishment for an epic cant. Especially at his age not to sleep - this is generally the norm. But the puppy is not forced to clean up after itself. How can I then poke him in this situation for months with my nose?

In general, I got into the console for the details of what happened. Nothing wrong:

- You have managed to put two tables in the lost + found. To restore the data in the tables to me broke, and to you there for a week of work, - with a wise experience in the face and a seasoned tone, I told the person I immediately enlightened her face. - I re-created the tables. Go to the dev-chat, tell me that the statistics for the last 24 hours are awful.

Malek understood everything correctly, this had already begun the punishment. Infuriated by the loss of testers required for debug logs, they will tear it into the German flag in the morning. In half of them, the work for tonight has been fucked by this young okhlamon. So ridicule junior put up without me. Valera retired, showing his punishment with his entire back, although expressing a slight doubt of his deserving right shoulder.

Late Monday evening is not the time for problems. The quiet twilight of the office is underlined by the bluish twinkling of monitors and quiet conversations from the corners. The muffled chatter of the coffee machine indicates that it took an urgent need for another shadow.

And the problems in the office look different. On the daytime carefree sea of ​​people joyous snows suddenly light ripples. She is not the first in a day - whether they brought new celery to the next tomnachny fresh celery, or a new hoverboard appeared on the kick starter. At first glance, and you can not tell. Only a little more silent, and so are not the loudest. Just too sharply everywhere on the head headphones fly up, tightly cutting off attempts to think from the still carefree noise. Only a little more often whiten compressed lips misunderstanding here and there. Only more nervously, even hysterically, palms are worn over the keyboards. The people start clustering according to their skills, in a mild and benevolently tolerant office atmosphere the demanding jerky commands and comments, a little more than entirely composed of slang, sound unusually sharp. Mostly smacks of the motherboard.

All capable of carrying weapons are involved. Notebook joker, iPhoneophile and champion gyroslaloma, with missing eyes, look at the retina-display of the working laptop, then involuntarily running his fingers through the fashionable beard, then blowing up the clavier with precise minute fingers of thin fingers. You can be a practical person and think about the beauty of the nails, human classic.

Perplexed look around his fellow interests, not enough skillful to be involved in correcting the global school. And not experienced enough to understand for themselves where and how they can benefit now. Bright, still funny but already feeling a kind of thunderstorm in dangerous proximity to their own feathers. The brutal real world has turned such a native and familiar office, the most beautiful place in the world to float and show off the brightness of feathers, into the dreary abode of introverts with their incomprehensible ways of solving unknown problems. The office, as well as late in the evening, as well as on weekends, again belongs to stiff personalities with lack of looks and incomprehensible conversations. Only now these personalities have woken up and in their stiff rage are fighting with something terrible on the other side of the screens.

The most sensible of the middles and the most arrogant of the Juns sniff above the ear, trying to understand the technical meaning of what is happening from the flow of the Lidovsk console. Drive away - moveton, this is a future shift: curious, arrogant, not indifferent, trying to understand and understand. Sometimes they are really able to check something together, reconfigure by example and restart. The main thing - not able to go with tips and questions.

Intelligent management also does not climb, bites nails behind the locked doors of their offices - they take their own, managerial, measures to minimize damage and cover our collective ass. Stupid rush around the office with the question "how can I help" before the first nervous council "not to flicker." The most stupid declare "what to do?", "Who is to blame?", "What the hell is going on?" And just "AAAAAAA!".

It ends too epic. In one of the corners, the muffled stream of consciousness is interrupted - either mats, or lines of code, or console commands and file paths, or pleadings “work”. One of the mad shadows gets up, sips, takes off the headphones and deliberately slowly goes to the coffee machine. Triumph, all those who need everything is clear - the person coped. The office slowly and gradually lets go. The noise of the keys disappears, by him there are already some cries of the rising tusi. People disperse in smoking rooms and coffee. The circus and carnival of the IT office spins up with the same force after the break to work. And again, the waves that mark the release of a new gadget or an idol trick run through the human sea.

The rest of the work goes in the usual soft mode. The developers have coped with the elimination of the consequences of their own mistakes. Technical support comes in the case - to cover our slouched backs, it is the support that pays for our sins. It is on their heads that angry complaints of disgruntled users are now pouring. And of course, testers are specialists in early detection of problems. Scha will come whining to explain to them how to do an autotest for the early identification of a newly discovered problem.

And yes, the answer to the question "who is to blame" the uninitiated, most likely, will not receive: the deviations of the magnetic field of Jupiter resonantly reflected in the lens of a cloud of swamp gas, you understand, yes? A pack of primitive shadows itself tears up a blinded one, endure mockery to him until the next file. But there is no issue from the Don. I would give the same Valerik even a tester who was almost his own fig if he had the slightest chance of negative consequences for him. But I intended to feed him the positive educational effect of the humorous, friendly kicking of colleagues.

But stop sitting here, it's time to go home.