The systems are duct-taped, the code’s ugly, but uptime’s at 99.9%—you’re welcome.
Let’s get one thing clear: I’m not just “in IT.”
I am IT.
I’m the one-person help desk, cybersecurity team, server admin, database whisperer, application analyst, GIS overlord, report writer, documentation gremlin, project manager, and reluctant code monkey—all rolled into one under-caffeinated, over-Googled human being.
You’re welcome.
And while my methods might make an enterprise architect break out in hives… they work. And that’s what matters.
My To-Do List Has Its Own To-Do List
Today alone, I blocked a phishing attempt, rebooted a server that swore it was fine (liar), recovered a “lost” Word document (it was minimized), updated some firewall rules, fixed GIS map labels, built a custom report on request (with no requirements), and reconnected someone’s printer for the fifth time this month.
And it’s only 2 PM.
I also drank cold coffee because someone asked, “Can you fix the internet?”
Spoiler: the internet was fine. Their Wi-Fi switch was off.
My Scripts Are Ugly. And Perfect.
Sure, my code may look like it was written by a sleep-deprived raccoon who only learned Python through memes. But guess what? It works. It runs. It saves people time. And no, I don’t have time to refactor it into a masterpiece. Unless “masterpiece” now means “it didn’t crash the system this time.”
Security? I Am the Firewall.
There is no red team or blue team. There’s just me, some paranoid email filters, and a deep mistrust of USB sticks.
Did I implement 2FA on everything? Absolutely.
Do I get complaints about it? Every single day.
Do I care? No.
Security is like flossing. Everyone hates it until something gets infected.
I Know Every System, Every Shortcut, and Every Weird Hack
That random legacy application nobody touches because it’s “fragile”? I touch it. Gently. Lovingly. With a backup first.
That report someone wants from an Access database last updated during the Obama administration? Yeah, I know how to get it. I don’t want to—but I can.
Because when you’re solo, you either learn everything or the building burns down.
I Am the Institutional Knowledge
Who set up the VPN? Me.
Who documents the network topology? Also me.
Who remembers why that one database is named “test-final-REAL”? Yep, still me.
Who does onboarding, offboarding, AND keeps track of licenses? Do you even have to ask?
HR doesn’t know half the things I do. Facilities calls me before the lightbulbs go out. One time, someone asked if I “know where the old fridge was moved.” I did.
Do I Want Help? Yes. Will I Get It? No.
Hiring budget? Hah. I asked once and got a “maybe next fiscal year” and a $10 Starbucks card.
So, I build automations. I write weird scripts. I schedule reboots during lunch. I reuse code from 2019 because there’s no time to write new stuff.
In the words of every IT admin ever: if it works, don’t touch it. And if it breaks? Blame the intern. Even if you don’t have one.
Final Thoughts: One Admin. Infinite Chaos. Zero Quit.
My systems may be rough around the edges, my scripts might have more comments than logic, and my documentation style is basically “figure it out,” but guess what?
The network is up. The data is secure. The reports are delivered. The business runs.
All thanks to one slightly unhinged, dangerously resourceful, possibly caffeinated solo IT admin.
Not perfect. Just necessary.