Fullstack Developer: The Weather App Edition

Documentation: *exists* Developers: *immediately pull out the "I-don't-care-inator"* Let's be honest—reading documentation is like flossing. We all know we should do it, but somehow we'd rather blast it into oblivion and ask ChatGPT to explain that obscure method in five words or less. Ten years of experience has taught me that the time saved skipping docs is always paid back with interest during 3 AM debugging sessions. Yet here we are, finger hovering over the ChatGPT tab, ready to type "how to center a div" for the 500th time.

The irony of complaining you can't find a programmer girlfriend while she's sitting at home with the exact same setup as you, avoiding human contact for the same reasons. Two introverts in their natural habitats will never cross paths unless someone's Git repo gets accidentally forked. The plants are probably the most socially active entities in both apartments.

The AUDACITY of the debugging hierarchy! 🧠✨ First level: Asking your friend to help debug - basic brain activity, nothing special, YAWN. Second level: Posting on StackOverflow - your brain is LITERALLY GLOWING with enlightenment as you prepare to be judged by the coding gods! But the FINAL BOSS LEVEL? Tweeting directly at the creator of JavaScript about your trivial HTML linking problem?! COSMIC BRAIN EXPLOSION! 💥 And Brendan Eich's response? "Show the html please." Not even a question mark. The sheer restraint! The man who invented an entire language just asked to see your code with the enthusiasm of someone ordering plain toast.

Ah, the battle-hardened senior dev vs. the fresh-faced junior. The senior is literally taking arrows from all sides—office politics, changing requirements, and those ever-looming deadlines—while still finding time to compliment the junior's CSS button. It's the perfect metaphor for tech career progression. By the time you reach senior level, you're not just writing code—you're a human shield absorbing corporate chaos while trying to mentor the next generation who think their biggest achievement is centering a div. The junior has no idea what's coming. None of us did. One day you're excited about button styling, the next you're in eight hours of meetings discussing "synergy" while your Jira tickets multiply like rabbits.

When your inner monologue goes from "I don't know what I'm doing" to "Wait, what if I actually don't know what I'm doing?" That's not imposter syndrome anymore—that's your brain executing a recursive self-doubt function with no base case! It's like when you've been faking your way through a codebase for so long that you start wondering if Stack Overflow should charge you rent. The shower thoughts hit different when you realize you've been copying and pasting for three years and still can't explain how that one function works.

A modern take on the old fishing proverb, but with 100% more existential dread. Sure, using someone else's code feels like a quick win until it breaks in production. But learning to code yourself? That's signing up for a lifetime subscription to Stack Overflow, mysterious bugs at 2AM, and the crushing realization that your beautiful architecture will be legacy code by next Tuesday. The real joke is we keep coming back for more punishment. Stockholm syndrome for nerds.