17 March 2026 – 08:15
Coffee beans run out.
CEO says company supplies instant.
If you want the fancy stuff, you need to buy it.
Seems like me and one other are the only people that get it.
I work in IT.
Today I’m the local coffee supplier.
Coffee beans run out.
CEO says company supplies instant.
If you want the fancy stuff, you need to buy it.
Seems like me and one other are the only people that get it.
I work in IT.
Today I’m the local coffee supplier.
New colleague started today.
I’m running around to get him set up.
Email address.
Door access.
Permissions.
Device.
Phone Number.
Show him around the building.
I work in IT.
Today I am the welcome committee, IT edition.
Today I tried to show some initiative.
Get an email from one of the tech companies.
New firmware released.
Announce it in the group chat.
Manager tells me this isn’t a priority.
I need to leave it.
I work in IT.
Today I am the messenger nobody asked for.
A year ago I had a meeting with the manager.
Told I’m not level 2 technician yet.
I need to work on it.
I need to get myself up to scratch.
No direction.
Dangled a carrot on a stick a mile long.
Soon another review will take place.
I work in IT.
Today I am chasing a carrot that never gets any closer.
Graveyard pickup in a week.
Need to get all the hard drives out of the machines.
Count everything.
Laptops, desktops, NVRs.
Collect all cables, ink cartridges, old switches.
Feel like a funeral director of technology.
I work in IT.
Today I am preparing the office for its own eulogy.
Colleague rings up.
Can’t access a page.
Check permissions.
All as expected.
I don’t normally deal with this.
It’s a director.
Give him some extra permissions.
He flaps.
Needs to send it to a founder.
Threatens to drop my name.
Then wants to ring a director at a funeral to get access.
I work in IT.
Today I am the unwilling accomplice to corporate chaos.
Boxes arrive.
Accessories for the new guy.
I build the desk.
I build the chair.
Connect the monitors.
Tidy the cables.
Make it look like it was always there.
I work in IT.
Today I am the man who built the desk before the worker arrived.
The boss asks me to alter some monitoring code.
A quick tweak.
I’m not that familiar with the code.
But I make the change.
Save.
One line disappears.
The monitoring breaks.
I get bollocked.
I work in IT.
Today I am the man responsible for one missing line.
A director is visiting.
Down from Manchester.
I’m asked to come in an hour early.
To prepare the conference room.
Connect the laptop.
Enter the credentials.
The screen lights up.
No one loses their shit.
I work in IT.
Today I am the invisible man behind a successful meeting.
The boss appears on a Teams call.
Just a floating head.
Like something out of Power Rangers.
Hardly ever in the office.
But always ready to talk down to you.
Today’s concern.
Empty boxes.
Why are there empty boxes in the office?
I explain.
New hardware delivery.
Machines unpacked.
Boxes happen.
Not good enough.
The floating head continues.
A lecture about cardboard management.
I work in IT.
Today I am explaining the lifecycle of cardboard to a floating head.
Prep 15 machines in a day.
Install the operating system.
Name them.
Put them into the right privileges.
Next day, the manager comes in.
Complains about the state of the office.
With the boxes.
Never a word about the work that’s been done.
I work in IT.
Today I am the silent hero of 15 freshly minted machines.
Still on a Teams meeting.
Somehow, someone has managed to get into the IT office.
And they are standing right beside you.
They can see you’re in a meeting.
“You got a spare cable?”
I work in IT.
Today I am a human cable dispenser.
“Water spilled on my computer. Now it’s not working.”
No responsibility. It was her.
“What can I work on now?”
Rushing me to prep her a new machine and fix the one she just broke.
“What should I do if this happens again?”
Don’t spill water on your machine.
I work in IT.
Today I am a human waterproofing warning system.
Colleague brings down a laptop.
Covered in strawberry protein shake.
The cap came off in their bag.
“Okay… can you fix it?”
It’s covered in milkshake.
No attempt to clean it.
“It’s not my fault.”
“I was going to the gym and my girlfriend made me the shake and told me to take it. I didn’t want to take it.”
I work in IT.
Today I am a human drying rack for strawberry protein shake.
“My mouse isn’t working.”
“Open it up.”
Battery has leaked inside.
“Okay… well, looks like the batteries have leaked.”
“Yeah, can you fix it?”
“I can try. I’ll use the wired mouse for the moment.”
“Okay… why don’t you just keep using the cabled one?”
“I prefer the wireless model.”
“Okay… it might be easier if we get you a replacement.”
“No, it’s fine.”
I work in IT.
Today I am a human bandaid for a dead battery.
“My password isn’t working.”
“Have you changed it recently?”
“Yes.”
“You might need to reboot the machine for it to sync with the servers.”
“Already done that.”
“Check our system logs.”
Machine hasn’t been restarted in 10 days.
“Alright, can I jump on your machine?”
“Sure.”
I jump on.
Reboot.
Works straight away.
I work in IT.
Today I am a human reboot button.
The Teams call.
The daily one.
The one about the tickets.
The tickets we went over yesterday.
We join.
Cameras off.
Microphones muted.
Spirits low.
“Let’s run through the list.”
We run through the list.
Closed tickets are acknowledged briefly.
A polite nod to productivity.
Then we arrive at them.
The Remaining.
“Why hasn’t this one been closed?”
Because:
We are waiting on a reply.
We are waiting on access.
We are waiting on approval.
We are waiting on the person who raised it to confirm it’s fixed.
We are waiting.
“Can we chase it?”
We have chased it.
We are now in the phase of professional haunting.
Twenty tickets were closed yesterday.
We will not discuss them.
We will discuss the three that remain.
“Can we get these cleared by today?”
Time is a flat circle.
Tomorrow, we will review them again.
I work in IT.
Today I am explaining yesterday to people who were there.
The corridor is the most dangerous place in the building.
Not the server room.
Not the printer area.
The corridor.
I stand up.
I stretch.
I pick up my mug.
I make eye contact.
Mistake.
“Quick question…”
It will not be quick.
“This will only take a second…”
It will not take a second.
“It’s probably nothing…”
It is always something.
I was going to the toilet.
I am now standing behind a chair watching someone
type their password incorrectly
four times.
I say, “Could you send in a ticket?”
They nod.
No ticket arrives.
The corridor is not a helpdesk.
I work in IT.
Today I am hallway tech support.
“Can you organise the Christmas meal?”
It’s March.
13 people.
13 different diary requirements.
4 different preferred locations.
2 dietary ultimatums.
1 “I don’t really do Christmas.”
I send availability poll.
Replies trickle in.
Then stop.
Budget gets mentioned.
Budget drops.
New restaurant suggestions appear.
Cheaper ones.
Further ones.
“Do they do vegan gluten-free but festive?”
Five people drop out.
It’s now a slightly awkward dinner in March.
Not Christmas.
Not optional.
Not within budget.
I work in IT.
Today I am Santa with a spreadsheet.
Sent to site to “tidy up the network cab.”
Colleague: “The camera isn’t working.”
Me: “Is it plugged in?”
Colleague: “Don’t know.”
Good start.
I trace the cable.
Under a desk.
Behind a cabinet.
Through a nest of forgotten infrastructure.
Found it.
Not plugged in.
I plug it in.
It works.
No firmware issue.
No network fault.
No mysterious configuration drift.
Gravity.
And a loose cable.
I am not IT support.
I am electricity with legs.
CEO comes down.
“Can you help move the Director to a new location?”
Of course.
The Director doesn’t want to move desks.
I send an email.
Clear.
Polite.
Practical.
Silence.
Time passes.
I find him.
Barker.
“I’ll reply to the email when I get time.”
The move is blocked.
The CEO is waiting.
The desk remains.
Infrastructure depends on one inbox.
I walk back upstairs.
Waiting for permission
to move furniture.
Manager: “How did that router fault happen over the weekend?”
Me: “I was going to bring it up in the huddle — that’s when we usually go through weekend incidents.”
My Teams rings.
I answer.
Volume: 100%.
“Don’t you dare fucking talk to me like that.”
Like what?
Like structured?
Like calm?
Like not panicking?
The router went down.
It came back up.
No data lost.
No fire.
No apocalypse.
But tone?
Tone is the real outage.
I mute myself.
Not the mic.
Myself.