Meeting Driven Development

Finally, someone brave enough to decode the cryptic art of version numbering! The major version gets bumped when you're feeling particularly smug about your code. The minor version? That's just for the mundane Tuesday releases. But that patch number? That's where the bodies are buried—all those emergency fixes for bugs you swore didn't exist during code review. "No no, that 123 isn't a frantic weekend of hotfixes... it's a feature richness indicator ." Sure, buddy. We all know the truth behind those triple-digit patches. It's basically a shame counter.

The eternal battle between sales and development continues! Here we have an airplane-cruise ship hybrid monstrosity representing client requests that defy the laws of physics, software engineering, and common sense. Every developer has been there: Sales comes barging in asking why you can't implement features that would require rewriting the entire codebase, inventing new programming languages, and possibly breaking several fundamental laws of computer science. Meanwhile, the actual request is like asking for a vehicle that's simultaneously a 747 and a cruise ship. Sure, I'll just quickly refactor the laws of aerodynamics and buoyancy during my lunch break! And you need it by Friday, right?

Ah yes, the classic debugging scenario where the big Spider-Man (developers) is actually trying to solve problems while baby Spider-Man (project managers and designers) stands there with that "I'm contributing" energy. Nothing quite like having someone hover over your shoulder suggesting you "just fix the bug" while you're neck-deep in legacy code written by a developer who left three years ago. The little one's face perfectly captures that mix of confusion and unearned confidence that appears right before they ask "is it fixed yet?" for the fifth time in an hour.

When I'm coding alone, I'm Patrick in a lab coat - sophisticated, focused, methodical. But the second I share my screen for pair programming? Suddenly I'm beach Patrick - frantically smashing at the keyboard with a hammer, forgetting basic syntax, and typing with the confidence of someone who just discovered computers yesterday. The duality of dev life is real. It's like my brain has two git branches and I can't merge them properly.

Ah, the infinite recursion of corporate time tracking. You're spending so much time documenting your hours in Jira that you need to document the time spent documenting time... and then document that time too. It's the bureaucratic equivalent of a stack overflow, except your sanity crashes first. Eight years into my career and I've started estimating "Jira maintenance" as its own task. 2 hours per sprint just to update tickets that tell management what I'm doing instead of, you know, actually doing it. The real joke? Somewhere there's a product manager using this data to optimize workflows. Irony, thy name is enterprise software.

Oh. My. GOD. The absolute TRAGEDY of software development methodologies laid bare! 😂 Waterfall is just straight-up DELUSIONAL - "Let's plan everything perfectly and then MAGICALLY end up on Mars!" Sure, Jan. 🙄 Agile is that friend who SWEARS they're going to Paris but ends up in their backyard. "We wanted Mars but settled for the Moon because REALITY HAPPENED, sweetie!" Kanban? More like Can't-Ban the endless sticky notes! A YEAR later and you're still begging for armrests while drowning in tiny tasks. The AUDACITY! Scrum is just organizational WHIPLASH. Disappear for a month, fail spectacularly, then have the NERVE to call a 15-minute meeting to start over? I'm DECEASED. ⚰️ And Lean Development? Honey, that's just poverty with WINGS ON A FIRECRACKER. The delusion of convincing investors that your dollar-store rocket might reach Mars "someday" is just *chef's kiss* PEAK STARTUP CULTURE.