Since I don’t want to start you off with anything too bizarre, I thought I’d give this entry level course into bizarrity by introducing you to Ryan and me. This is me with and my husband, Ryan:
Although saying “sucks” would be highly unprofessional, so he would probably say that your business strategies “are lacking.” He is pretty much gone all days fixing everyone’s business (“bid-ness”), while I desperately try to earn my degree in whatever the money-sucking colleges will give me after imprisoning and devouring the past 4 years and next 2 years of my life. Someday I’ll have to post my plans on how to defeat the college process and win free diplomas. It is possible. It involved fists and chest hair. Most plans that involve fists and chest hair are for the greater good.
Anyway, this past summer Ryan needed our only car to get to bid-ness. He bid-nessed; I sat in front of the TV and let my eyes glaze over for the 8 hours he was away. It was a terrible trade-off. He would walk in the apartment around 5pm where he would find me laying on the couch in my pajamas in one of those sexy positions that makes you look like you have three chins. Since I hadn’t spoken to anyone in 18 hours I made a horrible croaking noise and said something like:
Whitney: “How was work today?”
Ryan: “Lots of GANT/GANTT/GANNT Charts.”
Whitney: “Those are the worst. You must be hating those.” (What do I know? He could love GANT charts. Sometimes BS involves risks.)
Ryan: “Yeah, I’m tired.”
Whitney: (Quoting the Wikipedia page that I had pulled up on my computer five seconds before he walked in) “GANTT charts are a type of bar chart that illustrates a project schedule. I hope you used terminal elements and summary elements to comprise the work breakdown structure of the project.”
Ryan: “Uh huh, I’m taking a nap.”
My preparation went unnoticed.
Oh hey, I think it’s GANTT.
This is what happened every single day for four months.