Someone Cooked Here

The eternal struggle of our people. Just like vampires hiss at sunlight and Superman cowers from kryptonite, programmers recoil in horror at light-themed IDEs. Twenty years in this industry and I've never met a senior dev who willingly uses light mode. Our eyes have evolved to thrive in the darkness of basement offices and midnight debugging sessions. White backgrounds? That's for interns and management who code once a year. The rest of us prefer our screens like our coffee - dark and keeping us alive through questionable life choices.

Sales: "Our software is revolutionary! Look at these smooth animations!" Meanwhile, developers are frantically messaging each other: "DON'T CLICK THAT BUTTON! THE ENTIRE DATABASE WILL EXPLODE!" The eternal tech company cycle: sales promising features that exist only in PowerPoint while developers contemplate career changes. The slick UI is just makeup on a pig that's about to crash spectacularly in production. But hey, the animations are buttery smooth!

The eternal programmer's paradox! Someone gives you sage advice about valuing your skills, and your brain immediately goes: "But what about my undocumented spaghetti code that I wrote at 3 AM while chugging energy drinks? Surely that masterpiece is worth exactly $5." The cognitive dissonance of knowing we should charge properly for our expertise while simultaneously feeling like imposters selling digital duct tape solutions is the most relatable programmer experience ever. We're all out here building the digital future with code we're secretly embarrassed about!

The cosmic irony of a company rejecting PDF resumes for a Full Stack Developer position is just *chef's kiss*. They want someone who can handle complex distributed systems, containerized microservices, and cross-browser compatibility... but their upload form can't process the most universal document format since the invention of paper. Next they'll ask you to whiteboard the solution to their PDF parsing problem during the interview you'll never get to schedule.

The corporate world's obsession with AI has reached peak absurdity. Top image: CEO strutting around with sunglasses, basking in the glory of launching "the next revolutionary AI code editor" that probably just autocompletes semicolons. Bottom image: The actual dev team proudly showcasing their groundbreaking innovation—a new theme, one lonely extension, and the same VS Code we've been using since forever. Because why fix what's profitable when you can just slap "AI" on the marketing slides and watch the venture capital roll in?

That moment when your teapot is missing half its spout but you still try to pour tea with it anyway. Just like trying to follow that React tutorial from 2022 that casually omits the fact that half the API was deprecated last month. "Just import createClass—oh wait, that's gone. Um, just use componentWillMount—nope, that's gone too." The modern dev experience is basically pouring molten chocolate through a broken teapot and hoping your cup catches more than your countertop.