It Should Be The Highest Priority

Project managers choosing to draw 25 UNO cards rather than upgrade to Python 3 is the tech equivalent of saying "I'd rather eat glass." Python 2 reached end-of-life in 2020, but some companies are still clinging to it like it's the last bottle of water in a desert. The technical debt keeps piling up while managers keep muttering "but it works fine" through gritted teeth. Meanwhile, developers silently contemplate career changes.

Technical debt, visualized. Two bricklayers casually building a wall with a massive structural failure in the middle, yet they're just working around it like nothing's wrong. Classic "ship now, fix later" mentality that haunts codebases everywhere. The architectural equivalent of using duct tape and prayers in production. Future developers will inherit this masterpiece and question their career choices.

Your first day onboarding be like: "Here's a whiteboard full of 47,000 interconnected boxes that somehow represent our 'simple' microservices architecture. Don't worry, it gets worse!" The absolute AUDACITY of calling that nightmare flowchart an "overview" and then threatening to go into MORE detail is peak corporate sadism. That poor new hire is about to discover that the "little more detail" involves twelve legacy systems held together by duct tape, prayers, and a Perl script from 2003 that nobody dares to touch because the guy who wrote it retired to Bali.

The one-person army known as "indie game developer" in their natural habitat. While AAA studios have entire departments for each role, indie devs are sitting there with name tags for Producer, Director, Actor, Editor, Writer, and Creative... because that's just Tuesday morning before coffee. The other 37 job titles didn't fit on the table. Budget? What budget? Sleep schedule? Never heard of her. But hey, at least no one can reject your pull requests when you're the entire git history.

You start with a simple CRUD app. Just a basic form, maybe a login. Two weeks tops. Then the client casually drops "one extra feature" and suddenly you're implementing OAuth, real-time notifications, and a recommendation engine. Before you know it, someone mentions "procedural generation" and you're writing algorithms you barely understand. Then comes the final boss: "What about adding co-op?" Now you're dealing with WebSockets, conflict resolution, and questioning every life choice that led you to this moment. The makeup progression is chef's kiss—perfectly captures how your project transforms from clean and manageable into a full circus act. And you? You're the clown who said "yes" to everything.

The initial joy when a client approves your design is like that brief moment between deployments when everything works perfectly. Then comes the inevitable "but I want some changes" and suddenly you're Iron Man after the battle—broken, defeated, and questioning your life choices. The real superpower isn't coding—it's maintaining your will to live after the 47th round of "minor tweaks" that somehow involve rebuilding the entire architecture.