Please Give Me Your Ticket Number

Coding alone: Hulk smashing everything in sight, pure chaos, feeling invincible. Code review with seniors: Hulk looking ashamed, hand on face, surrounded by judgmental Avengers who are silently wondering how you managed to break every coding standard in existence. Nothing humbles you faster than having your "brilliant" solution dissected by people who've seen every bad implementation since COBOL was cool. The "ONE WAY" sign in the background is just chef's kiss irony.

Ah, the classic developer's dilemma that keeps project managers up at night. You've just achieved in 4 hours what management allocated 6 months for, and now you're faced with the eternal question: honesty or free paid vacation? The correct answer depends entirely on your career goals: Option 1: Tell your boss and watch as they immediately quadruple your workload while keeping your salary exactly the same. Congratulations, you've unlocked the "competence punishment" achievement! Option 2: Spend the next 6 months "fine-tuning" your solution while actually learning three new programming languages, building a side project, and occasionally moving your mouse so your Teams status stays active. The wojak face says it all - the existential crisis of a developer who just realized they're too efficient for corporate America. Welcome to the twilight zone where productivity is simultaneously demanded and feared.

The duality of a programmer's spirit in its natural habitat. Coding for hours? "I can do this all day" - we're basically superheroes with headphones. But suggest a 2+ hour meeting about the code we just wrote? Instant surrender. Nothing drains a developer's life force faster than watching the product owner debate whether a button should be blue or slightly-less-blue while your perfectly crafted algorithms gather digital dust. The irony is palpable - we'll happily debug until 3AM but would rather rewrite the entire codebase in COBOL than sit through another "quick sync" that somehow becomes an existential crisis about project timelines.

Poor intern just discovered the eternal punishment that is documentation. That look of betrayal when you realize writing docs isn't a one-off task but a never-ending nightmare that will haunt your entire career. The innocence is gone. The rage is building. Welcome to software development, kid—where code is temporary but documentation is forever. And somehow always outdated anyway.

The eternal battle between code quality advocates and those who just want to ship it! That desperate moment when you're practically begging your outsourced colleague to write unit tests, only to receive the bluntest "No" in return. It's like trying to convince someone that flossing is important—they know they should, but they're definitely not going to. The code coverage report remains at a pristine 0%, while the technical debt compounds faster than your student loans. Who needs tests when you can just push to production and pray? What could possibly go wrong?

The cosmic horror of being assigned as a code reviewer for a 208-file pull request with +114,948 lines added and -1,130 lines removed. The giant, menacing figure represents the monstrous PR towering over the poor developer who's been summoned to review this abomination. That's not a codebase change—that's a whole new dimension of pain being introduced into your repository! The "And It Is Only Monday" title perfectly captures that sinking feeling when your week starts with what can only be described as a code war crime. Whoever submitted this PR clearly doesn't believe in atomic commits or the concept of human mercy.