I Mean, I Don't Know...

Exhibit A

I'm tired.

Right this second, I'm tired of hearing myself pontificate. I'm tired of feeling it (also, I drank some wine over discussion with a friend last night. This may be a contributing factor).

But, like, I love Bret Weinstein. I fucking love him. He makes so much sense. And there are so many other people who make a similar amount of sense and have varying degrees of my affection and/or agreement.

I want to talk about it, I want to shout it from the mountain top, I want to join this discussion... .

But, dude, in order to do that properly, there would be so fucking much I would have to read, discuss, learn, internalize, contemplate, listen to. And, well, I give you Exhibit A.

The fact that I used a fucking bitmoji for that should suffice in disqualifying me. Not to mention a bitmoji that says "I can't even." I'm embarrassed for me.

Only - I'm not really. And, it's not enough to disqualify me. I am a layperson.

I think there is a sweetness to entering the discussion from that humble perspective (for the record, sometimes I disgust myself).

I guess I'm feeling that I sense that I have a lot to offer and that, perhaps, it is my moral obligation to not be afraid to speak my mind.  But I'm just tired and slightly hungover, and I don't want to argue with people that, as it appears to me, are so far up their asses that they're too embarrassed to admit that there's shit all over their face. They're willing to die in denial to save themselves this humility. How do you deal with that?

Product Manager puzzle solver and solution finder me feels in her gut that there is a way. But like my friend Bret Weinstein says, we have to find the z axis in our evolutionary-knee jerk  two dimensional thinking.

It feels like I/we would need to cut through time. As in, we're going to need to use some quantum physics type shit to see what we aren't seeing.

So, yeah.

Whatever. Don't look at me... . 

Work I Manifested

I had a vision, and I set some personal goals. Those goals appeared to just be hopes and dreams at the time, but still the visual of it was in front of me; I kept putting one foot in front of the other. Now, I am here.

I am a software Product Manager. We are a small/medium sized company emerging out of our start up shell.

We have technical debt.

Having started with this company from the beginning as support, I had some really good feels about what customers needed this app to do.

As the Product Manager, I have applied that knowledge (along with a host of other research/designer tools - don't get excited, it's not just me) within the conceptualization of the new foundation of the app; the foundation that throws out the workarounds, leaves the barge sized ship of technical debt behind, and allows us to emerge from our start up cocoon shiny, new, and powerful for our users. 

It's a lot of responsibility. Most of the time, I feel pretty good about what our product team has put together. Lately though...

We're starting production; the wave of developers digesting our (my) ideas, interpreting them, blowing them up, resolving them, and changing them is all Lions and Tigers and Bears - oh my.

I wonder sometimes how I'm going to keep up? How will I rein them in when they're taking complicated liberties over product decisions? How will I stand my ground? How the fuck will I document each step of the fucking process so that we have a trail - this thing is ginormous, even its broken-into-milestone parts.

A friend of mine and I have this inside joke, this project and a different one (that is ready for release) appear to have ended up as versions of what the product team intended. Versions that we lovingly refer to as:

Le Sigh

For those not in the know, I introduce you to Bitch Stewy and Bitch Brian.

So, there's that.

Now, we're a pretty young product team, we're working some shit out. But, man... this shit is fucking hard.

AND... it's rewarding. 

Work I manifested: To be challenged and feel successful.

I can only hope that manifesting feeling successful is the same as being successful. I mean, I can't imagine the gap would be that big.

Either way... I am here.