What Was That

The classic developer escape plan. You build half a monstrosity, realize it's become a Lovecraftian nightmare of technical debt, then suddenly remember your cousin's startup needs a senior developer. Meanwhile, the grim reaper (aka those impossible projects) patiently waits at the company door for the next unsuspecting junior who'll inherit your undocumented spaghetti code. It's not abandonment—it's a strategic career advancement opportunity.

The face of pure disappointment. Google's search algorithm used to return actual solutions from GeeksforGeeks, but now it's determined to show you AI-generated Medium articles hiding behind paywalls. It's like trading a working Swiss Army knife for a plastic spoon with "premium features." Next they'll suggest I debug production by asking my horoscope.

That heart-stopping moment when you delete code instead of copying it, only to remember the undo shortcut exists. Nothing builds a stronger bond than that split second of sheer panic followed by the sweet relief of Ctrl+Z resurrection. The code you were ready to rewrite from scratch is suddenly back in your arms – a digital prodigal son returning home. Ten years into this profession and I still get that little adrenaline rush every time.

Pre-ChatGPT: Developers channeling Neo from The Matrix, bending reality and code to their will, fighting bugs with superhuman focus. Post-ChatGPT: Just a sad cat begging an AI to draw pictures because we've forgotten how to solve our own problems. The evolution of debugging is complete - from coding wizards to glorified prompt engineers asking "pretty please fix my code." The irony? ChatGPT can't even draw that image. Not even a stick figure. Welcome to dependency hell's newest circle.

Ah, the sacred commandment of software development! Homer's grabbing that "Free Programming Advice" slip with the enthusiasm of someone who's spent 48 consecutive hours debugging a single semicolon error. The golden rule revealed: "IF IT WORKS, DON'T TOUCH IT" - the mantra whispered in server rooms worldwide. Every developer knows that terrifying moment when you make a "tiny, harmless change" to working code and suddenly your entire application bursts into flames. It's like finding a delicate house of cards and deciding to "just adjust one card real quick." Pure chaos theory in action!

Content Me deciding to code review the senior dev's "Minor fixes" PR because it sounds easy 47 files changed, 1100 line diff ProdrammerHumor.io