Let’s talk about the importance of a skilled project manager for project success.

Approximately half the world I know is moving. Including my parents.

I’m excellent at hard labor. So I willingly offer myself up as such.

I refuse, however, to be involved in any decision-making. My brain is simply not equipped at current. Unless it is well-compensated. And even then it’s a crap shoot.

My eldest child is an excellent project manager (PM). So that role defaulted to him.

So I agreed to spend my Saturday packing and moving shit at my parents’ house. Their soon to be old house.

Pulled up to the job site. To find freshly delivered shit for us to move.

Seems like we might’ve just waited to have this delivered directly to the new location… but I’m not the PM. So the fuck do I know.

And because I was raised the way I was, I was the first to arrive on site. PM and the other laborers were nowhere to be found.

Which left me alone with my mother, the President. Who kept rattling off what she wanted to see happen that day.

“I’m not sure why you keep telling me all these plans. I’m not the project manager.”

Eventually the PM arrived. And began reviewing the project plan with the President.

Meanwhile, my father wandered into the active work area and wanted to chat.

Which led both the PM and President to begin saying some very ugly things about me. Questioning my work ethic. And morals.

“Excuse me. I’m networking with the exec sponsor. If he’s not happy, he could pull the plug on this entire project.”

President disagreed that exec sponsor held that level of power, so I pointed out that I hadn’t been given any direction on what tasks were assigned to me.

Did we even have a kickoff call???

President’s response was to walk away from me. So she could follow the PM around. Continually offering him a step ladder.

Like he’s not 6’2”.

Those go go gadget arms just laugh at ladders.

Meanwhile I’m wondering if anyone’s created a gannt chart and where on that chart my tasks lie.

After PM has successfully demonstrated multiple times his complete lack of need for a ladder, we move on to the basement.

Maybe I can do some work here.

And President starts pointing at random things saying “Junk” “Storage” “Move”

Then she points to this

“This is the old stationary bike.”

(I’ll point out here that one of the giant delivery boxes on the front porch was a new exercise bike.)

“So, that goes in the junk pile.”

“No, we’re moving that to the new house.”

“What are we gonna do with it there?”

“Junk it.”

“So…why…”

“Stop asking questions and do as you’re told.”

That’s right, Sunshine. Know your place. You have no authority here.

It was cool, though. Because I kept finding half full six packs of different kinds of beer in random places.

May as well sample some.

This one tastes like hot dogs

It’ was also probably a few decades old.

Eventually the rest of the work crew showed up.

And we finally managed to get all of our tasks completed. On schedule. I assume. I still haven’t seen a project plan, so it’s really hard to say.

I do know we came in under budget. Since the labor was free. And so was the beer.