When Are We Supposed To Work

The eternal dance between developers and project managers in their natural habitat. Left side: PM promising quick fixes with their signature "got a minute?" opener (translation: prepare for a 2-hour meeting). Right side: developer desperately seeking a JIRA ticket for documentation because verbal requests might as well be written in disappearing ink. When the PM finally caves and creates a ticket, the developer's relief is palpable—finally, proof this conversation happened! Without a ticket, it's just two people having a hallucination about feature requests.

Nothing destroys your coding flow quite like someone hovering over your shoulder. Suddenly that function you've written 50 times becomes an impossible puzzle, your fingers forget keyboard shortcuts, and you start second-guessing variable names you've used since 2009. The bear's face says it all – "I was catching fish just fine until you showed up with your 'helpful suggestions' and now I'm questioning if I even know how to swim."

That beautiful moment when you hand over your legacy codebase like a soggy cardboard box on a clothesline. "Here's that microservice I built at 3 AM during a production outage. No documentation, just vibes. Good luck figuring out why it crashes every third Tuesday!" Meanwhile you're skipping away to greener pastures while your replacement stares at 5,000 lines of uncommented spaghetti code with variable names like 'temp1' and 'finalFinalREALLYfinal2'. The digital equivalent of leaving a time bomb with a sticky note that says "it works on my machine!"

MARKETING: *enthusiastically gives thumbs up* "We can totally deliver this revolutionary feature by next Tuesday!" DEVS AND QA: *thousand-yard stare of someone who's seen too many impossible deadlines* The eternal corporate tango where Marketing promises the moon while Development silently calculates how many all-nighters it'll take to build a rocket from scratch. HONEY, THAT'S NOT A FEATURE, THAT'S A WHOLE NEW PRODUCT LINE! 💀

The fresh-faced programmer, high on caffeine and optimism, wonders why features take so long. Meanwhile, the battle-scarred veterans watch in silence, knowing the eldritch horrors that await—legacy code, unexpected dependencies, and the inevitable "just one small change" from marketing. The manager stands between them, blissfully unaware they're about to lead everyone into the technical debt abyss. That new dev will learn soon enough that in software, time estimates are just elaborate fiction.

Nothing says "production ready" like a command line interface on a smartwatch. This is what happens when management doesn't understand that "backend complete" doesn't mean "ready to ship." Sure, the data's there, but good luck explaining to users why they need to type commands on their wrist to check the time. That heart rate of 73 bpm is suspiciously low for someone who just got told to ship this monstrosity. Ten bucks says the dev's resume was updated before that watch finished booting.