IT Department Prior To The Holiday Break

A street sign that says "NO REBASE" with a symbol prohibiting two cars from being on top of each other. The perfect metaphor for Git workflows where rebasing is forbidden and merging is the only acceptable way to integrate changes. That senior dev who set up the repo rules is probably the same person who put up this sign. Both will fight you to the death if you try to maintain a clean commit history.

Regular people worry about ignoring texts and relationships. Developers just want to know which files to add to .gitignore so their repo doesn't get cluttered with garbage. The sweet relief on that dev's face when he discovers he can ignore node_modules instead of pushing 500MB of dependencies to GitHub. Pure bliss. Meanwhile, his relationship status remains "it's complicated with package-lock.json."

Forget smoking and overpriced coffee - the real financial death spiral is forgetting about that EC2 instance you spun up "just to test something real quick." Nothing says "surprise bankruptcy" quite like getting that AWS bill showing you've been hosting the digital equivalent of an empty room for $200/day. The cloud giveth scalability, and the cloud taketh away your rent money. Next time you're debugging at 2 AM, set a calendar reminder titled "DO YOU WANT TO LIVE IN A CARDBOARD BOX?"

The eternal GitHub vs GitLab debate summed up in one perfect comic. Sure, Mom says she loves both platforms equally, but we all know where her Git repository really lies. Let's be honest - every dev team claims to be "platform agnostic" until it's time to actually choose where to host code. Then suddenly GitHub gets all the attention while GitLab sits in the corner wondering why its CI/CD pipeline and integrated DevOps features aren't enough to win Mom's heart. The "by a lot" is what kills me. It's that brutal honesty you only get after 3am during a production outage.

Ah, the sacred Friday 4:55 PM ritual of selective blindness. Nothing says "professional developer" quite like watching your production app burn while convincing yourself that Monday-You will be much smarter and more capable than Friday-You. Meanwhile, the users and business stakeholders stand in the flames, blissfully unaware that their weekend shopping spree will end in cart abandonment and rage tweets. But hey, your camping trip remains uninterrupted, and that's what really matters in the grand DevOps scheme of things.

The code review nightmare in its natural habitat! The reviewer is bombarded with a buffet of coding atrocities—null pointer references lurking in the shadows, deprecated methods that should've been buried years ago, and a loop so obvious it's practically screaming for attention. But the pièce de résistance? That cyclomatic complexity of 36—a number so high it should come with its own warning label. For the uninitiated, cyclomatic complexity measures how many paths code can take. Anything over 10 is considered complex; 36 is basically a labyrinth designed by a sadistic developer who hates their future self. Yet despite this horror show, the reviewer's profound analysis boils down to checking if a variable is false. The cognitive dissonance is exquisite—like bringing a spoon to a gunfight and declaring yourself adequately armed.