Have you ever felt like you’re the only adult in a room full of toddlers when managing a project? Welcome to my life as an IT Program Maestro. It’s a glamorous existence filled with orchestrating complex technical implementations while also reminding grown adults that, no, emails don’t send themselves, and yes, deadlines do matter.

Let’s dive into what it’s really like to be the central nervous system of every project—where “talking tech” means nothing unless you follow up 32 times to make it happen.

Genius or Just Tired?

Sometimes I wonder: Am I truly a genius for keeping this chaos afloat, or is everyone else so indifferent that I appear Einstein-like by default? Picture this: I’ve outlined the program roadmap, set up tools, assigned responsibilities, and followed up (because without follow-up, nothing happens). Yet, I’m greeted with blank stares when asking about progress.

“Oh, I was waiting for the go-ahead,” someone might say. The go-ahead? I sent three emails with bold, underlined headers saying, “YOU HAVE THE GO-AHEAD.” Was the font not inspiring enough?

When the IT Architect Joins the Call

Explaining technical requirements is already a circus act, but throw in an IT architect, and suddenly, you’ve got a full-blown comedy show.

I start, as usual: “We need to integrate the SIEM logs into the SOC dashboard.” Enter the IT architect, who—bless their enthusiasm—launches into a 20-minute deep dive about the theoretical elegance of log pipelines. They’re sketching diagrams, throwing out acronyms faster than anyone can Google them, and waxing poetic about how this integration could solve all our future scalability issues.

And then it happens: someone says, “Wait, should we also pull in logs from those IoT devices we talked about last year?”

Before I can reel it back, another voice chimes in, “What about integrating this with that AI-powered threat detection tool? Should we scope that in too?”

I’m sitting there, gripping my coffee like a lifeline, trying to bring them back to Earth. “Guys, the scope is just SIEM to SOC for now. We don’t have the budget to turn this into a Hollywood blockbuster.”

Silence. Then the architect, with a glint in their eye, says, “But imagine if we did…”

And just like that, the meeting spirals into discussions about future-proofing, licensing models, and quantum computing (because why not?). Meanwhile, the actual task? Still untouched.

At that point, I realize my job isn’t managing tech—it’s herding squirrels armed with PowerPoint decks and grand visions, all while making sure we don’t bankrupt the company in the process.

The Art of Herding Cats

There’s nothing quite like IT program management to teach you that adults are, in fact, just taller versions of children. It’s astonishing how many people forget basic tasks until you gently (or not-so-gently) nudge them.

For example:

· Me: “Can you validate the firewall rules by Friday?”

· Them: Silence.

· Friday Morning: “Oh, was that this Friday?”

Yes, my dear colleague. THIS Friday. The one we discussed four times in the last two weeks.

What It’s Really Like to Get Things Done

Imagine being the only one trying to build a boat while everyone else is debating whether the ocean exists. That’s what it feels like most days. My tools? Agendas, timelines, and a borderline obsessive love for follow-up emails.

If I didn’t remind people:

· Critical patches would remain “in progress” forever.

· Incident response plans would still be in a Sharepoint site no one reads.

· The audit deadline? Forgotten like last year’s gym membership.

Are They Lazy, or Am I Just Obsessed?

In fairness, I’ve come to accept that not everyone has the same sense of urgency about IT programs as I do. Perhaps it’s not laziness but a misplaced sense of priorities. Or maybe it’s the blissful ignorance that no, hackers don’t wait for everyone to get their act together before launching attacks.

My job is to translate chaos into action—to make sure the lazy ones (and the overworked ones) don’t derail the whole ship. It’s equal parts diplomacy, babysitting, and occasionally, superhero work.

What Keeps Me Going

Why do I do it? Because when everything finally comes together, and we thwart a potential breach or pass an audit with flying colors, I know it’s worth it. And, let’s be honest, a part of me thrives on turning mess into order.

So, am I really a genius, or is everyone else just indifferent? The answer doesn’t matter. What matters is that the job gets done

Final Thoughts

To my fellow program maestros, IT warriors, and coordinators of chaos: keep pushing. Whether we’re geniuses or just determined, the world runs on our follow-ups. And if you ever feel overwhelmed, remember it’s not you. It’s them. Probably.