It feels like there are six of me sometimes. Not in some cool, multiple-personality movie kind of way, you know? More like a really tired circus juggler who’s been given way too many flaming torches to keep in the air, and the crowd’s getting antsy.
I remember this one gig, must have been a good few years back now. It was one of those small companies, all big dreams and tiny budgets. You probably know the type. They brought me on board as a developer. Sounds straightforward, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.
It didn’t take long before “developer” also meant being the guy who had to scramble when the main server decided to take a nap at 3 AM. That was me number one, the accidental on-call engineer, fueled by cheap coffee and desperation.
Then, whenever clients started getting twitchy because deadlines were flying past – and trust me, they were always flying past – guess who got shoved out front to do the talking and calm things down? Yep, that was me number two, the unwilling diplomat, trying to spin straw into gold with words.
And, of course, the whole project was built on some obscure framework that the lead guy, who mysteriously vanished two weeks after I started, had picked. So, me number three, the forever-student, spent most evenings and weekends just trying to learn enough to keep the whole rickety thing from collapsing. It was exhausting.
Somewhere in all that, there was the actual coding. Trying to build something, anything, functional out of the constant chaos. That was me number four, the ever-hopeful builder, clinging to the idea that maybe, just maybe, this thing could work.
And when new “urgent” requirements landed on my desk every other day, completely changing the direction of whatever I was working on? That was me number five, the unofficial, under-powered project manager, trying to make a list and check it twice, even though the list was set on fire daily.
The sixth me? I guess that was just the stubborn part. The one who kept showing up every day. Maybe too invested, maybe just too tired to look for something else at that point. Or maybe just plain foolish.
It was a proper mess, let me tell you. Pure, unadulterated chaos. We were meant to be a team, but by the end, it really felt like it was just me, wrestling with these five other roles I never signed up for, all jammed into my one brain. It nearly burned me out, completely.
Why am I even talking about this? Because that whole disaster, as truly awful as it was, well, it taught me a few things. Mostly about what red flags to look for, and the kind of nonsense I wasn’t going to put up with ever again. It forced me to develop all these… sides to myself. These “six” that, I suppose, are just part of my toolkit now. It’s not always great, to be honest. Some days I really wish I could just be “one” person doing one job properly. But life throws stuff at you, doesn’t it? You get tossed into the grinder, and you either come out minced, or you come out… well, tougher, and with a few extra coping mechanisms you never really wanted.
It’s funny, looking back. I eventually walked away from that place. Just got up and left after one too many ridiculous demands. They kept calling for a while, but I was done. Heard later the whole project tanked not long after. Can’t say I was surprised. Now, whenever I see a job ad that sounds like they’re looking for six people but only want to pay for one, I just have a little chuckle to myself and keep on scrolling. I’ve already lived that movie, and I definitely don’t need a sequel.
