Professional Facepalms: A Six-Part Series

Because if you can’t laugh at your own career mistakes, someone else will.

Part #1 - Burning Up and Burning Out

Near the end of my career, we started upgrading our outdated computer system to a modern one, built on entirely new hardware with new databases and programs. Our existing system was so large that recreating all the business logic and rewriting every program and database at once was impossible. The practical solution was to modernize the system incrementally, one component at a time.

Nothing Is Ever Easy…

That approach makes sense until you realize how deeply intertwined the data is across all parts of our system. What I mean is that changing a single piece of information in one file can affect hundreds of reports and processes that rely on that data.

Think of it this way: suppose you want to update a client’s mailing address. You go into the client profile system and make the change. Since your entire system operates within one ecosystem, every other system that needs this updated address can access it.

Now, imagine you are in the middle of modernization, with two systems running simultaneously—the new one and the old one—each operating independently of the other. The client profile system has been rewritten for the new platform. But now when you update an address there, you must also update it on the old system. This is necessary because some processes, such as issuing cheques to clients, have not yet been modernized and still run on the old system. Without keeping both systems synchronized, a cheque might be sent to the wrong address.

Since reports and systems on the old setup still need to function, data on both systems must remain perfectly synchronized.

The Solution - With A Catch

So I built a program that would copy any changes made in the new system over to the old one. That way, both would always match. But there was a catch. These changes needed to be processed one at a time in the order they arrived. And, since a subsequent change might be dependent on a previous change being completed, if an update failed, then every other change that came along afterwards would need to be held up until the failed update was fixed.

The Costco Analogy

Imagine if Costco had just one checkout line. On a quiet day, it would likely stretch about 700 miles long. Now imagine that the barcode scanner quits working. Everything grinds to an immediate halt. The checkout clerk, having been trained in Costco’s Emergency Response Protocols, springs into action by pushing the button on the handheld scanner a second time. No beep. “Remember your training…” he mutters to himself before moving the scanner to his other hand and pressing the button again. Still nothing. Sweat beads on his forehead as he employs the last weapon in his arsenal and turns the scanner off and turns it back on after 10 seconds. And still, no scan, no beep. And now, the 700-mile lineup starts to grow longer as more people, their carts full of staples like 850-count boxes of gumballs and 60-pound buckets of honey, begin their odyssey to the end of the ever-growing line. It’s gridlock until the scanner gets fixed.

Above: Actual items for purchase at Costco. Bet you thought I was making these up.

Dotty, the cashier supervisor, eventually trundles her way to the beleaguered Costco flunky, relieves him of the scanner, then – in a bold new strategy ripped straight from the pages of the Costco Emergency Protocols for Middle Management handbook – presses the button. And for some strange reason, it fails to work for her as well. As she transfers the scanner to her other hand, you find your thoughts drifting off, wondering how a couple of peaches could possibly cost $6 when you can buy four Costco hot dogs for the same price. You are now starting to question your lifestyle choices simply because the barcode scanner is busted.

Back To My Point

My analogy thusly established, I wanted to avoid a situation where an unexpected glitch on a Friday night caused thousands of unprocessed database updates to queue up over the weekend and render the system unusable for everyone on Monday morning. And the more I considered this, the more the charm of facing a throng of angry coworkers armed with torches and pitchforks outside my cubicle began to wane.

The IT Manager joined the mob to save himself. The developer survived relatively unscathed, save for some bus tire related trauma and a harsh lesson that Christmas gifts can age into irony.

So, in my very finite wisdom, I wrote code that would send me a text if something broke. Then I’d take my laptop home each night, and if I got an alert, I’d log in, fix the problem, and restart the syncing process.

Nobody asked me to do this. My boss always had my back, and never pressured me to work after hours. I took this course of action on myself because I knew how much chaos an out-of-sync system could cause. Spending an hour or two at home now and then in exchange for workplace harmony felt like the right thing to do.

The trouble is, that kind of thinking is exactly how you burn yourself out. And it doesn’t matter if it’s coming from your boss or you’re foisting it upon yourself.

When you care about your work — particularly if you’re good at it — you start to believe you’re the only one holding the place together. You go the extra mile, then another, then a few more, until you’ve taken up residence at your office like you’re Celine Dion at Caesar’s Palace. Then, before you know it, one day you’re grabbing your golf bag to nick out for nine holes when a group of Christmas carolers shows up at your cubicle — your neighbor finally told them where to find you. You blink. “Wait… it’s Christmas?” You look out the window: snow. You check your watch: December 22. “Great… still a couple days left to shop…” you say to yourself as you put your golf bag down and start working on your gift list.

Workplace burnout is a growing problem. According to a 2023 survey of Canadian professionals, 42% of them reported feeling burnt out, citing heavy workloads due to understaffing, lack of communication and insufficient resources. And Statistics Canada reported that over 21% of workers described their job-related stress as high or very high in 2023, driven by factors like overloaded schedules and poor work-life balance.

The signs of burnout are easy to spot: constant fatigue, irritability, trouble focusing, low levels of motivation, and a nagging sense that your best is not good enough. If you’re running through the office in your underwear and shooting your colleagues with a Nerf gun, however, you’re in luck. That’s not actually a symptom of burnout, though HR might suggest you dial back your expectations for what is appropriate on Casual Friday.

The real threat? Burnout doesn’t kick down the door with sirens blaring. It slips in quietly, disguised as dedication. For me, ‘taking one for the team’ and ‘just doing what needs to be done’ didn’t feel like warning signs — they felt like badges of honour. These imposters convince you that draining yourself is proof of a strong work ethic, and before you know it, you’ve bartered away pieces of your well-being for the illusion that bleeding for the cause is necessary, even noble.

Reflection

Looking back, I can see that the extra hours, the self-imposed pressure and the ever-vigilant conduct weren’t signs of dedication or of me taking responsibility for a process of mine that might implode so much as they were warning signs. What felt like protecting the team was also draining my own energy. And while this didn’t seem to negatively affect me when I was younger, it became all too evident later on. The exuberance and resilience that fueled me in my younger days became increasingly out of reach. And after some time, it was only visible in my rearview mirror. It was a cruel reality.

Lesson Learned

Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm. Because as surely as you’ll burn up metaphorically, you’ll start to burn out for real. No one looks back on their life and says, “You know, I really regret not spending more time at work.”

Your job will take as much of you as you’re willing to give. If you don’t set boundaries, you’ll become complacent with the demands, even those you piled upon yourself. And without a course correction, you’ll drift from being complacent to being complicit.

And once you’re running on fumes, you’re no good to anyone — not your employer, not your coworkers, not your family, and most importantly not yourself.

And if you do get to that point… well… don’t be surprised when you’ve become the protagonist of a cautionary tale in an HR PowerPoint presentation — first slide: you, in your underwear, wielding a Nerf gun.

Like what you read? I write, rewrite, overthink, rewrite again, and eventually post these things in hopes they resonate. If something struck a chord, sparked an idea, or — most importantly — made you laugh, please drop a comment below. Sarcasm is welcome, cruelty is not. So be honest, and be nice. It’s possible to do both.

And if you'd like to support the effort (or just bribe me to keep going), you can buy me a coffee. No pressure — but caffeine is a powerful motivator.

Full disclosure: you can’t actually make me buy a coffee with your donation. I might use it for a beer instead.