The Emotional Stages Of Debugging

Grammar lessons were never this practical in school. This chart perfectly captures the inevitable relationship between developers and production environments - a timeline of chaos told through English tenses. The brutal honesty here is what gets me. "I break prod every Friday" isn't a possibility - it's a simple present fact of life. And that perfect continuous future tense? Chef's kiss. Nothing quite captures the existential dread of knowing you'll have been breaking prod for two hours by the time your boss discovers it. The cat's worried expressions gradually intensifying across the grid is the silent scream of every developer who's ever frantically searched Stack Overflow while production burns.

The perfect definition doesn't exi-- Welcome to the twilight zone of software development, where you've read 37 Stack Overflow posts, watched 14 YouTube tutorials, and somehow your code still fails spectacularly for reasons beyond mortal comprehension. That magical moment when you remove a semicolon and suddenly everything works? Pure sorcery. The next day you'll add that same semicolon back because now the code doesn't work without it. Computer science degrees should come with a free therapy session voucher. "Nothing works and we don't know why" isn't just a punchline—it's our daily standup meeting.

The code is a perfect example of why game developers shouldn't be allowed near RNGs unsupervised! 😂 What we're looking at is a glorious mess of Python where someone created two nearly identical functions ( count_greater_than_11 and count_greater_than_5 ) that generate random numbers between 1-20 and increment a counter when the number exceeds a threshold. But wait! The function names and comments don't even match - one says "greater than 11" in the comment but checks for > 10 in the code, while the other claims to check for > 5 but actually checks for > 4! And then there's that lonely is_divisible_by_7 function at the bottom, just hanging out with no apparent connection to anything else. It's like someone started implementing their own version of RNG bias with specific magic numbers, got bored halfway through, and shipped it anyway. This is probably why that boss battle feels unfairly difficult every 7th attempt...

Content ERROR IF YOU'RE SEEING THIS, THE CODE 15 IN WHAT I THOUGHT WAS AN UNREACHABLE STATE. I COULD GIVE YOU ADVICE FOR WHAT TO DO. BUT HONESTLY, WHY SHOULD YOU TRUST ME? I CLEARLY SCREWED THIS UP. I'M WRITING A MESSAGE THAT SHOULD NEVER APPEAR, YET I KNOW IT WILL PROBABLY APPEAR SOMEDAY. ON A DEEP LEVEL, I KNOW I'M NOT UP TO THIS TASK. IM SO SORRY. NEVER WRITE ERROR MESSAGES TiRED.

Ah, the classic game dev descent into madness. Starting with bright-eyed optimism about using Godot's C# API, then slowly spiraling into technical debt hell. First, you're excited about making a game. Then you're hunting for that perfect 3D model that's probably held together with duct tape and prayers. By the third stage, you're realizing your codebase is built on an outdated engine version and needs complete refactoring. And finally... the thousand-yard stare when you hit 3000+ errors. That's not a compiler error count—that's a cry for help. The best part? We all know you'll do it again on your next project. Because we're game devs, and apparently we enjoy suffering.

The gap between how we imagine our coding abilities versus what we actually produce is wider than the Jurassic period. Left side: majestic T-Rex ready to dominate. Right side: that offline Chrome dinosaur game you play when your internet dies. At least the pixelated version still technically runs, which is more than I can say for half my projects.