Me: “I’ve looked at the brief and it’ll cost [total].”

Client: “I thought you were a freelancer.”

Me: “I am.”

Client: “No, you’re not. You’re a chargelancer!”

This story happened a few years ago. A friend refers me to his mother, a real estate agent who wants a new website for her business. I call her to set up an appointment.

Client: “So, what is your expertise in real estate?”

Me: “I’ve done two real-estate websites in the past, and they’ve been quite successful. I can provide you with a searchable database of listings where buyers can filter by price and other factors, as well as a homepage with featured listings, your bio, and anything else you’d like to include.”

Client: “Yes, but have you ever sold a house before?”

Me: “No.”

Client: “Why not?”

Me: “Because I’m not a real estate agent. I’m a web developer.”

Client: “So how do you expect to do a website for me if you don’t know anything about being a realtor?”

Me: “I know enough to build a website with a listing database which you can very easily populate with descriptions, photos, and any other info you wish to provide the buyers with. I can also provide other tools, such as a mortgage calculator and a lead-tracking system that allows potential buyers to contact you with listings they are interested in.”

Client: “I really don’t think you know what you’re doing. I think I’m going to have to pass and find someone who knows how to sell a house.”

Later, I discovered she had finished her website. On Geocities. Yellow background. 50pt font. Seemingly designed by a ‘real’ real estate agent…

Client: “We would like a drawing of a moose on skis.”

I send the art.

Client: “Why there were two feet on each ski?”

Me: “People ski on two skis and a moose has four feet so I put two on each ski.”

Client: “That is ridiculous!”

Me: “Which part? You’ll have to be more specific?”

Client: “Well, I’m pretty sure they don’t make skis that can accommodate two feet each!”

Me: “Right. That was a pretty big leap on my part, sorry.”

I’m a year and a half into the development of a new web application for managing complex data sets. Our boss has never been able to provide proper specifications for what he needs, just a flood of vague ideas with no real detail and constantly changing scope.

My job is to try and turn this into a comprehensible list of tasks that the dev team can actually follow. Each month, I have a planning session with the boss where we hash out the next period of work. Each session, I remind him that changing the scope means adding more time.

We agree and sign off the work to be delivered by the end of the month. So far, we’ve hit every deadline.

I thought we had a pretty good system in place until:

Boss: “I can’t believe we’re so far behind and how poorly you’ve managed this project.”

Me: “What do you mean? Haven’t we met all the agreed deadlines throughout the project?”

Boss: “I’ve made a spreadsheet of all the dates I wanted each feature done by. So far, you’ve missed every single one of them.”

Me: “Excuse me? We’ve always delivered what’s been agreed on time. Where have these new dates come from?”

Boss: “This is how long I thought the work should take and I made up my own timeline.”

Me: “I’ve never seen these dates before, let alone agreed to them. At a glance, many of them seem extremely optimistic.”

That’s business talk for “f****** mad”.

Me: “We agreed at the start this would be at least a three-year project.”

Boss: “Well, I decided it should take less time and you’re late. I’m going to have to pull the plug on this project if you can’t have everything wrapped up within the next month.”

I politely remind the boss that there was at least another year and a half of work left to complete the project. I’ll probably be looking for a new job shortly.