You're Not The First: The Production Push Baptism

THE SHEER AUDACITY of someone sending just "hey" on Teams! Like, seriously?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! 💀 That single word hanging there, menacingly, while I frantically try to figure out if I broke production, missed a deadline, or if my code just set the entire company on fire. The suspense is UNBEARABLE! Just tell me what catastrophe awaits so I can properly prepare my resignation letter, PLEASE!

That fleeting moment of glory when your code doesn't immediately set the servers on fire. You're strutting around like a superhero while your Slack blows up with messages. Just wait until they find that one edge case you didn't test for. Enjoy the dopamine while it lasts, friend.

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.

Future managers surrounded by AI robots, desperately hunting down poor Devin who pushed that production bug? Welcome to the dystopian future where git blame has evolved beyond finding the commit author—it now deploys an army of robots to hunt you down. The irony is palpable. We've created AI sophisticated enough to replace workers, yet management still needs to find a human scapegoat. Some traditions never die, even in 2030. Pro tip: Always commit under your coworker's name when pushing questionable code. Future survival depends on it.

The galaxy brain moment when you convince yourself that spending 48 hours automating a task that takes 20 minutes is somehow "efficient." But let's be real—we're not doing it to save time. We're doing it because manually repeating the same task feels like psychological torture, and writing that script gives us the same dopamine hit as solving a puzzle. Sure, we'll never recoup those hours, but our fragile programmer ego can't handle the thought of doing something "the easy way." It's not laziness, it's... "future-proofing."

Ah yes, the classic "I clicked the 'Update' button on my phone and now I'm basically a Google engineer" syndrome. Nothing says "tech prodigy" quite like taking credit for an automated system update while tweeting from your smart refrigerator. Next week they'll be adding "helped design quantum computing architecture" to their LinkedIn after turning their Wi-Fi router off and on again.