Imagine spending your best adult years as a member of the galaxy’s largest exploration and peacekeeping organization fighting trench wars against an alien you barely just learned about and becoming a cold-blooded killer who is haunted by the faces of your victims every single night only to get “promoted” to a position where you are forced to maintain a busted down space station they left behind which was built by slave labor.
Having maintained a large legacy codebase and being one of the only people who knew how it worked, it was kinda fun.
That reward you get tracking down an obscure and deep codepath that crosses program runtime and language barriers to discover and correct a bug is so satisfying.
Later you’ll explain the bug in your PR and nobody will have any idea what’s happening, but they approve the PR nonetheless.
Imagine spending your best adult years as a member of the galaxy’s largest exploration and peacekeeping organization fighting trench wars against an alien you barely just learned about and becoming a cold-blooded killer who is haunted by the faces of your victims every single night only to get “promoted” to a position where you are forced to maintain a busted down space station they left behind which was built by slave labor.
Having maintained a large legacy codebase and being one of the only people who knew how it worked, it was kinda fun.
That reward you get tracking down an obscure and deep codepath that crosses program runtime and language barriers to discover and correct a bug is so satisfying.
Later you’ll explain the bug in your PR and nobody will have any idea what’s happening, but they approve the PR nonetheless.
Then one day you’re tracking down a fault and all the computers come alive.
“Attention Bajoran workers…”