Make Sure The Server Works

The eternal tech interview charade! HR asks if you have Git experience, and there's Stewie confidently declaring he knows the sacred trio of commands: "git add .", "git commit -m", and "git push origin master". The punchline? He genuinely believes these three commands make him a Git expert. It's like saying you're a master chef because you can boil water and add salt. Every developer has been there - memorizing just enough commands to sound competent while secretly Googling "how to undo git commit" the moment something breaks. The audacity to claim "Yes, I think I understand the nuances of this profession" is peak junior developer energy!

That face when the product owner describes a completely vague feature, you have zero clue how to implement it, but somehow everyone agrees it's a "5-point story." In Agile planning poker, story points are supposed to measure complexity, but they've become the universal "sounds complicated but not too complicated" metric. It's the software equivalent of answering "fine" when someone asks how you're doing while your code is silently burning in production. The best part? Next sprint, that innocent 5-pointer will mutate into a 13-point monster with seven undocumented dependencies and a legacy system integration nobody mentioned in the planning meeting.

When Google thinks you're having an existential crisis, but you're just trying to fix your codebase! Merge conflicts—where Git basically says "I have no idea which version of this code to keep, YOU figure it out." Those dreaded red and green highlights that make you question your career choices. Google's algorithm has clearly been trained on developer tears, immediately offering the suicide prevention hotline as if to say, "We know what resolving merge conflicts does to a person's mental state." The psychological stages of a merge conflict: denial, anger, bargaining with git, depression, and finally just force-pushing to main when nobody's looking.

The moment you installed Jenkins, thinking it would make your CI/CD pipeline smoother, but six months later you're knee-deep in YAML hell, debugging cryptic build failures at 2 AM while the smug Jenkins mascot just sits there... smiling . That's not a helpful butler, that's a sadistic taskmaster who convinced you that automation would be "easy." Famous last words before your weekends disappeared forever.

The eternal developer dilemma: choosing between light and dark themes! On the left, the bright and cheerful "/tmp" directory bathed in sunlight (clearly for those morning coding sessions), and on the right, the ominous dark "/tmp" folder under stormy skies (perfect for 2 AM debugging marathons). The poor developer stands at the crossroads, knowing that whichever path they choose, their files will still vanish mysteriously after a reboot. The real horror isn't the spooky castle—it's the ephemeral nature of temporary storage!

Nothing screams "tech superiority" quite like typing cryptic commands in a black terminal while your non-technical friend watches in bewildered horror. The raw power that courses through your veins when you sudo apt-get update in front of someone who thinks you're hacking the Pentagon is simply unmatched. Sure, money buys yachts and status gets you into fancy restaurants, but making eye contact with someone while you casually pipe grep output to awk? That's the kind of high no offshore account can provide.