This one crazy:
We made an app for our client to scan some parcels via barcode.

They just created a ticket, for complaining that it's hard to scan in the storage room, because it's so dark. They are like sometimes we need to use a torge to scan. Can you increase the contrast of the app or something to scan better in darker place.

Did not know what to answer, but my thoughts were like: why the fuck you don't put enough light in that room?! 🤔🤷🏽‍♂️

My job feels (and acts) like a soulless void.

Wow, that sounds like lyrics to an emo song for adults. screw that.

But it's still pretty accurate: While I have quite a few coworkers, and they're at least somewhat chatty, they never seem to respond to me, or even notice me. I see them talking, but anything I do or say gets ignored. It goes into the void and disappears.

I talk in the off-topic channels. People talk around me.
I make comments on releases. No responses.
I talk about music I've been addicted to. No responses.
I talk about food and cooking -- a popular topic at work. No responses.
I respond to an invitation to join the security team. No responses. (well, an empty deferral)
I release various features, some both my boss and a coworker described as "soul-crushing." No thanks, priase, appreciation; honestly, no one even seemed to notice.
I build useful utilities and functions for other devs to use. Nothing.
I optimize the scripts everyone uses on a daily basis, and mention it to others. Still nothing.

The void eats my efforts, and occasionally spits out parcels of work for me to do. The only responses I recieve from the void are when I ask about its parcels of work. When I send them back completed, nothing happens -- unless they need more work. If they do not... nothing.

My previous job was friendly and nice and rewarding.
The job before that was Hell.
This one feels like Purgatory, but ... somehow emptier.

Tested out parcel.js as webpack replacement and wasted 3 hours because of a missing sourcemap reference at the end of the bundled file. It was not parcels fault, but dear author of parcel-vue-plugin never again override one of parcels core file you fucker or i'll chop of your genitals with a rusty knife.

What is it with shipping websites sending you an email saying "hey, here's your tracking number and tracking URL!" and then that *very same link* saying "this tracking number doesn't exist, it can take a few days to show up sometimes, try again!" I'd understand if this was one knock-off weird company, but it seems to be *all of them*.

Seriously, how hard is it to just initialise a tracking number at the point you send that email so it at least shows a "parcel not yet picked up" or similar message? I know it doesn't make much material difference to tracking but it just reeks of bad UX and lazy / incompetent devs.

!dev
Please enjoy this customer review I intercepted. Guess the company type and name that requested the feedback.

"______ drivers liberally show how bad it is to work for these companies.
Three quarters of all packages arrive damaged.
They park wherever they want.
No regard for traffic, people, property nor parcels.
Redefining rock bottom.
Not this delivery. Always. Everywhere. For a strong decade now."

I need to make an app that can scan addresses from labels of parcels, and converts into map route. Where do I start about the recognising of address? I’m lost. Any pointers would be helpful.

because I lacked a portable storing solution (pockets weren't allowed), I couldn't find anything better than using my own skull as a storage box. It turned out it had way more room than expected. The brain itself is quite small, and the whole frontal lobe & the space around the brain is completely empty. Initially, opening the skull was scary and cumbersome, but the more you do it, the easier it gets. Once upon a time, when I tried to pop an acne on my forehead, the hole was revealed, and it led to the storage space beneath. I have no idea how it happened, but apparently the skin is too thin. The bone also looks much thicker from the inside. There were two wires — red and black — leading to a standard PC speaker every old computer had. I wasn't a cyborg, mind you, I merely put that speaker there for storage. The acne hole healed with those wires exposed, leaving a permanent mark due to the wire coloring pigment dissolving in my skin.
I used that storage space to hide the contents of some parcels I was processing back then. I was stealing things. Eventually, my coworker — Bruce Willis — confronted me, and I had to strangle him. My arm became very flexible, and I was able to wrap it around his neck several times during a chokehold. It didn't end well for both of us.