Alright, let me tell you about a time, way back, when “young and nieve” was basically my middle name. I’d just landed this gig, feeling pretty pleased with myself, you know? Thought I had a decent head on my shoulders.
So, they gave me this project. My first “real” one to manage, soup to nuts. I was supposed to build this internal tool. Seemed straightforward enough on paper. And boy, was I eager to impress. I remember sitting in that meeting, nodding along, thinking, “Yeah, I got this. Easy peasy.”
My Big Plan (or Lack Thereof)
My “plan” was more like a burst of enthusiasm. I told my manager, “Oh, give me a couple of weeks, maybe three tops. I’ll have it shiny and new for you.” He raised an eyebrow, but I was too full of misplaced confidence to notice. I just wanted to dive in and be the hero who delivered super fast.
I started coding almost immediately. No deep dive into requirements, no proper breakdown of tasks. Why would I need that? I was “young and nieve,” remember? I figured I could just figure it out as I went along. Famous last words, right?
Pretty quickly, things started to unravel.
- The “simple” bits weren’t simple: Turns out, even basic stuff has layers I hadn’t even thought about. I’d budget an hour for something and it would eat up a whole day.
- Scope creep, invited by me: Because I hadn’t nailed down specifics, I kept thinking, “Oh, I can add this little feature, it’ll be cool!” Each “little feature” was another nail in my coffin.
- Debugging hell: My code was, let’s just say, creatively structured. Finding bugs felt like searching for a specific needle in a giant haystack factory.
- Too proud to ask for help: I didn’t want to look like I couldn’t handle it. So, I just banged my head against the wall, privately.
The deadline, that glorious three-week mark I’d so boldly proclaimed, came and went. I was nowhere near done. I was stressed, working late, and the “shiny new tool” looked more like a pile of junk.
The Come-to-Jesus Moment
Eventually, I had to face the music. I remember walking into my manager’s office, feeling about two inches tall. I laid it all out – how I’d messed up the estimate, how I’d gotten bogged down. It was rough. He wasn’t angry, more… resigned. He’d probably seen it a hundred times before with other fresh-faced rookies.
We had to reset expectations, bring in some help to untangle my mess, and the project ended up taking more than double my initial, wildly optimistic estimate. It was embarrassing, for sure. I felt like a complete idiot.
But here’s the thing: I learned more from that screw-up than from any easy win. I learned to respect the process. I learned to ask questions, tons of them, even if I thought they sounded stupid. I learned that planning isn’t a waste of time; it’s the only way to save time. And most importantly, I learned a bit of humility. Being “young and nieve” is a phase, but you don’t want to stay there forever. That experience, as painful as it was, definitely helped me move on from that phase a lot quicker.
It’s funny to look back on now. I wouldn’t want to go through it again, but man, am I glad it happened. It shaped a lot of how I approach things, even today.
