So, you wanna know about “1 1 9.” It’s not some secret code, not really. It’s just how I remember that whole period, that particular mess we waded through. It sticks in my head, you know?
It all started with a bright idea from someone high up. “Let’s simplify things!” they said. “One process for this, one system for that.” Sounds good on paper, right? That was the first “1” and the second “1”. We were all nodding along, thinking, “Finally, some common sense.” We actually got a bit excited. Thought our daily grind was about to get a whole lot smoother.
Then came the implementation. That’s where the “9” comes in. Or maybe it felt like ninety-nine problems, to be honest. What was supposed to be one streamlined thing turned into this beast with nine heads, each one wanting something different. Every department had their little tweak, their special condition. “Oh, but can it do this?” or “We absolutely need that field, just for us.”
My part in this? I was one of the grunts on the ground, trying to make this “simple” new system work for our team. We’d get these directives, these updates, almost daily. First, we set up our workflows one way. Boom! Next week, an email. “New guidelines for the 1-1-X initiative” (they didn’t call it 1-1-9, that’s just my name for the feeling it gave me). And we’d have to tear down what we just built and start over. It was like trying to build a sandcastle while the tide was coming in, and someone kept changing the blueprint for the castle every five minutes.
I remember spending hours in meetings. Meetings about meetings. We’d try to explain, “Look, this step here, it doesn’t make sense for us. It adds three extra clicks and a prayer for it to not crash.” And they’d listen, nod, and say, “We understand your concerns, but we need standardization.” Standardization felt like being squeezed into a box that was two sizes too small.
The practice, for me, became about survival. How to get my actual work done despite this new, “simplified” chaos.
- I started documenting everything. Not just the official procedures, but the workarounds. The “if this error pops up, try holding your breath and clicking it three times fast” kind of stuff.
- I got real good at finding the loopholes. The parts of the system they hadn’t quite locked down yet, where you could still do things the old, sensible way if you knew the trick.
- And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. And talking with the other folks in the trenches. We’d share our little tricks, our frustrations. That helped, knowing you weren’t the only one thinking it was nuts.
Did it ever get truly simple? Nah. Not really. It just became the new complicated we had to live with. Eventually, some bits got smoother, mostly because we, the users, figured out how to navigate the maze, not because the maze itself got any less twisty. We just got better at running it.
So yeah, “1 1 9.” One grand idea, one supposed system, and a whole heap of real-world pain trying to make it stick. It was a practice in patience, a masterclass in making do. And honestly, it taught me a lot about how big plans can go sideways if you don’t listen to the people who actually have to use the stuff. That’s my record of it, anyway. Just another day at the office, huh?
