Priorities Sorted (By Executive Golf Outings)

Nothing strikes more fear into a developer's heart than the words "sprint planning." That bear thinks it's scary, but little does it know the true horror of sitting through two hours of story point arguments, backlog grooming, and listening to the product manager explain why everything is "high priority." The real predators aren't in the woods—they're in the Jira board.

The classic project management fallacy, illustrated with surgical precision. Just because nine women can't deliver a baby in one month doesn't stop project managers from thinking nine developers can deliver a project nine times faster. It's the same energy as believing you can dig a hole faster by hiring people who've never seen a shovel. Brooks' Law sends its regards - adding more people to a late project just makes it later. Next up: Project Manager discovers that two pizzas don't feed twenty people in half the time!

The generational warfare of tech tools is real! We missed medieval knights (too late) and futuristic space marines (too early), but we were perfectly timed for the epic battles of Jira tickets, Slack notifications, and VS Code debugging sessions. Modern developers don't wield swords—we wield Postman requests and fight dragons in our Notion documentation. Our armor is caffeine and Stack Overflow answers, and our battlefield is that 4-hour sprint planning meeting where everyone argues about story points. The irony? We're still playing a game with XP, guilds (teams), and bosses (product managers). Just with more emails and fewer actual swords.

The eternal truth of software development. Product managers be like "Let's remove that useful feature nobody asked for" and suddenly users are storming the gates with pitchforks. Twenty years in this industry and I've seen more "bug fixes" that were actually feature removals than actual bug fixes. The worst part? Six months later they'll reintroduce the same feature as "revolutionary new functionality" in their premium tier. Classic corporate gaslighting at its finest.

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?

Ah yes, the classic "I'll just give a positive review and nothing else" approach. When your boss asks for feedback, but your keyboard mysteriously only types thumbs up emojis and the occasional letters that spell "tgIm." After seven years as a senior dev, I've mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing while appearing enthusiastic. Career preservation at its finest. Why risk an honest opinion when you can just 👍👍👍 your way to your next performance review?