Page 28 of The Hard Launch

I’ll admit that I’ve been flirting with Jude, mostly because it’s fun to see how awkward and blotchy he gets when I do. At least that’s how it started, but there was a shift after yesterday’s demo. And then I pushed it too far. The adult thing to do now would be to have a simple conversation. Close quarters, lack of sleep: these things happen. And then we move on.

I decide on a less mature strategy, which is saying nothing at all and pretending it didn’t happen. Lucky for me, there’s a whole system to ensure that strategy is successful: the buddy system.

I ask Kate to meet me at Blue Bottle on our way in, so I don’t have to walk past Jude’s office alone and risk him asking me if I have a minute. I avoid my own desk—where I’m a sitting duck—and head straight to Ingrid’s to see how she feels about soft deleting instead of hard deleting. I stay there until I see Steve walk into the conference room for our upcoming meeting. Steve, the buffer I was waiting for.

When Jude walks into the conference room, I say a very general and possibly too-loud “good morning.” I can tell he’s waiting for me to look up, so I keep my eyes fixed on my screen. I also let him propose the scope trim to the team, though he gives me more credit for it than I deserve. As a group, we run through all the remaining items and find we’re able to knock a few more items off the list. The initial, ambitious plan is morphing into something smaller, but still valuable. And definitely possibly achievable.

As the meeting winds down, I pop up early and go bother Dave about user permissions, asking him if we can’t simplify them—and by simplify I mean, not have them. Then Keith and Jude head into the small conference room and I can relax for a minute.

I head to my own desk and sit down, but see that cute little tiger perched on my shelf. I was so happy just a few days ago. And now what am I? I shove the tiger in a drawer and focus on my work. That’s the reason I’m here. I focus for fifty-five minutes and then I’m back in the danger zone: Jude could stroll by at any moment.

“Where are you going?” I ask Kate when she passes my desk.

“Um. The bathroom?”

“Great,” I say, “I’ll come too.”

She gives me a weird look. “Okay? But I don’t think you need to bring your laptop.”

In the evening, I sneak down the stairs, mentally exhausted but successful: I worked the entire day and successfully avoided being alone with Jude. It’s only six o’clock, but I’ll log in again later. No more late nights in the office for this monkey.

I work from home the next day.

Lettercat has a pretty loose policy about working remotely, which I suppose isn’t a policy at all. It’s cool if you come in, it’s chill if you want to stay home. Most people on my team go in most days, just because it’s nice there and we like each other. I personally start to climb the walls of my studio if I spend too much time there. But today it feels easier to stay home than scamper around the office; yesterday wasn’t my most productive day, and the reality is, I have a ton of shit to get done.

I walk to an early yoga class, stopping to grab a coffee on my way back, and enjoy it while I rot my brain on social media. I open up LinkedIn to see how that Corday Ford partnership is going, but the only news from Tooity is a DM from their recruiter about a Product role. I delete it: as though I’d chase that bad CF strategy across companies.

I set Slack to DND and mark my status as WFH, then settle in to do some deep work writing the full requirements for the final slate of tiger team stories. Normally I’d move them out to the To Do board once they were ready, but I hold off today. I’ll move them all at the same time tonight. Just before I log off. Coincidentally, they’ll all be work for Jude, and I’m hoping if he gets them after work hours, he’ll ask any questions in the tickets instead of to me directly.

I make it through the whole day and most of the list before I get stuck. I think about asking the data team, but I know Steve will blink at me and tell me this is a question for Jude. I consider going to Ella and seeing if we could change the entire user experience to make my question a non-issue.

I sigh. This is ridiculous. Unsustainable. I either need hand the tiger team off to someone else, or grow the fuck up and talk to Jude. With no options for the former, I make a long, whiney moan before committing to the latter. But first I need to put some laundry in down the hall. And place my grocery order. And vacuum.

When I run out of vehicles for procrastination, I take a deep breath and open Slack. I have dozens of unread messages. Does DND mean nothing to these people? Six of them are from Jude.

I click on his name and see:

Hey do you have a second

Know you’re on DND but it’s important

Followed by three missed calls, and:

Give me a call when you can, okay?

The last message was forty minutes ago. I sigh and click the button to return his call, keeping my camera off while wondering what fresh hell awaits me.

He answers immediately, camera on.

I wouldn’t say I used to think Jude looked angry all the time; it was more what I’d call pissy: some combination of impatient, mildly aggravated, and tired of being the smartest person in the room. Now that I know him better, I see that he’s always tired and usually just being direct, which can feel like criticism when it’s coming from a person who’s in charge. Or maybe he’s jerk and my own lack of sleep over these last couple weeks has softened me.

The Jude I see on my screen isn’t one who’s dealing with yet another setback or curveball thrown at him. I’ve seen him look anxious; this is the only time I’ve seen him scared.

“Glenn called me two hours ago,” he says. “Jen had a seizure. She’s in the hospital.”

Like any other person working in tech, I’ve had my share of bosses over the years and I’ve learned a lot from all of them; mostly about what not to do. But Glenn’s not only made me a better product manager, he’s been a consistent example of a person who behaves with kindness and respect, something all too rare in this industry. He might be a perfect human. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.

I turn my camera on while Jude tells me what he knows, including many, many details about hypertension late in the third trimester of pregnancy.