Zero hour

There is nothing left to do, and little left to say. Three years' worth of work culminates in this, a five-day span in which I will work harder at something than most people would ever dream of calling 'fun.'This database has grown beyond what any of our predictive abilities believed it might become. We expected a flat, two-dimensional set of data: names, addresses, phone numbers. What it became, though, was a central point around which everything else revolved. A repository. A tool for building working relationships, building teams, finding potential leaders and making a cohesive staff.

Somewhere along the way, we got organized. There weren't just people based out of different rooms; there were crews. After bribery with donuts, a Regency day crew appeared. Danielle gathered a Centennial day crew to her. The smartasses coalesced in Ops and, if we're lucky this year, the logistically-minded folk will do the same in Harris (our equipment room).

I am still terrified that my system won't work. It doesn't matter that there are months of testing behind it, months of gradual, feature-at-a-time enablement and crash-testing. Nor that I tested the Ops computer last night myself and verified that it worked. No, all of this counts for something, but the moment I'll know is this:

I'll be sitting in Ops, cranking through processing people as they arrive, getting the staffer behind my back to read over his/her information while I make quick corrections. If I have my wish I'll have my two compatriots with me, Chew Toy on my right side and Duckie on my left; one divvying out badges and shift-related paperwork while the other handles headshots and any other administrivia.

If that happens, and I realize we're just alt-tabbing between windows and saving off information and handling shift clock-ins as they happen, then … then …

… the unthinkable: it is done. Truly done.

There will be changes, and there will be upgrades, but this now, with all its particulars, is surprisingly close to the 'future' I envisioned three years ago. If it works as even I have begun to suspect it might, it means that I will walk into my new job next week with a light heart, knowing that I did what I set out to do.

Oh, and if this works, we are throwing one hell of a party.

If you know where Centennial Five is, then you know where you need to be.


So, did you survive? And did it work?

And DAMN did it all rock! You done good!