You submitted that ticket. Six months of silence later, you're still doing it manually.

Someone on your team — let's call them John — has become the keeper of a process that shouldn't exist. John knows where every piece of data lives, which spreadsheet is the source of truth, and how to cobble it all together every week. What happens when John goes on vacation? That's a problem you're afraid to ask.

You've asked your dev team to build this. They said yes. Then the roadmap shifted. Then it didn't make the quarterly cut. Then a critical bug appeared. Now your request is somewhere on a backlog that won't surface for nine months, if ever. You're not frustrated with them — you understand how it works. You're just stuck.

Your team has adapted. They've built workarounds. They know the quirks. There are unwritten rules: use this version of the file, export on Tuesdays, never edit column B. You've created muscle memory around a broken process. Now a tool that fixes it feels less like a solution, more like a disruption. That inertia is real.

Your CTO says, "One of the junior devs could spin this up in a week." Then nothing happens. Because one week isn't actually one week. It's one week once the requirements are written. Then another week for code review. Then another for fixes. And there's no one on your side to own it if it breaks. You need something that's actually yours, built for you — not squeezed into someone else's schedule.