Rebase Is Not That Bad

You spend three weeks crafting your Python masterpiece, push it to GitHub, and within minutes some random dev comments "where's the executable?" These monkeys don't understand that Python IS interpreted. They're probably the same people who ask for the manager's phone number at a self-checkout. Next they'll want you to compile HTML too.

SWEET MERCIFUL CODE GODS! The most powerful entity in software development isn't your tech lead—it's that desperate little feline begging for your approval! While you're drowning in 47 Jira tickets, this adorable catastrophe is just waiting for someone, ANYONE, to merge their changes into the sacred main branch. The sheer DRAMA of waiting for code review approval has literally transformed this developer into a pleading kitten. And honestly? Same. Nothing says "I've lost all dignity" quite like peeking over a chair asking for your pull request to be approved after you've spent three days refactoring that nightmare function everyone was too scared to touch! 🙀

Ah, the classic programmer's dilemma! When you refuse to share your code, it's never about greed—it's because your implementation is held together with duct tape, Stack Overflow snippets, and questionable variable names like temp_fix_delete_later_v3_FINAL . The shame is real when your elegant solution in theory turned into a horrifying Frankenstein's monster in execution. Every programmer knows that feeling when someone asks "Can I see your code?" and your fight-or-flight response kicks in faster than an infinite loop crashes your IDE.

Who needs spiritual enlightenment when you've got a CI/CD pipeline that actually works? That moment when all your deployment checks turn green is basically the tech equivalent of nirvana. After days of fighting with Docker configs and environment variables, seeing those green checkmarks feels better than any meditation retreat. The real religion of developers isn't in any ancient text—it's watching that deployment succeed without a single red error message. Pure bliss. Pure meaning. Pure validation that maybe—just maybe—you're not completely terrible at your job after all.

The classic developer delusion: your code is invincible because it passed some pathetic little tests on your machine. Then reality hits when the CI pipeline runs and suddenly your precious code is getting absolutely demolished by tests in a different environment. It's the programming equivalent of practicing karate moves in your bedroom mirror vs. getting roundhouse kicked in an actual fight. "But it worked on MY machine" - the battle cry of the defeated developer since time immemorial.

Ah, the modern tech job posting—where companies want a single developer with the skills of seventeen specialists working for the price of one junior. The guy nails it perfectly. When recruiters list every technology under the sun—from three programming languages to multiple frameworks, databases, cloud services, DevOps tools, and system administration—they're basically asking for a unicorn who can replace their entire engineering team. After 15 years in the industry, I've seen job descriptions evolve from "Java developer" to "technical demigod who can single-handedly build, deploy, and maintain the entire digital infrastructure of a Fortune 500 company while also making coffee." And the best part? They'll still call it "entry-level" and offer you exposure instead of a proper salary.