#Excel is actually a decent editor for writing Java#it makes it very difficult to make some of the most common Java mistakes#like writing code in Java
"Lol"
"Lmao" even.
Is this an "I have written too much Java" emotion or an "I refuse to touch Java" emotion?
I am, perhaps, overstating my aversion to the language - I don't really hate Java, I just don't find it terribly fun to work in (although it's been years since the last time I had to, so maybe IDE advances have made it more palatable now). I've worked on some Java projects that were quite well put together, but I've also seen my share of code with types like ProducerFactory<FactoryProducer, IGatewayFactoryFactory>.
In general if speed is not an essential part of a project I prefer to write in Python for its terseness and extremely effective syntactic sugar (context managers, generators, etc.), and if speed IS essential then various C variants, Rust, or even Go will almost certainly outperform Java. So it's not entirely clear to me why Java is still used outside of legacy code.
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tight white tee stretched over butch bicep amen
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I hate that when I announce that I'm aro, but not ace, people are like "yes fuck nasty I respect it 😏😏" like okay girl sure I do that but do you think I don't experience longing for human connection ? You heard non/aromantic and thought "wow, you must be so good with one night stands no emotional attachment whatsoever". Like no, I still (and you're not gonna believe this guys) care about the people I may or may not sleep with ?? Hello ??
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Lan Jingyi: Truth or Dare.
Jin Ling: This is not a slumber party.
Lan Jingyi: I know, but it feels like one.
Jin Ling: We're being held captive!
Ouyang Zizhen: I choose dare!
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you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
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matching simon’s freak and stroking him through his pants during dinner post wedding ceremony
him ruining all of it by growling that if you don't stop he's taking you on that damn table loud enough that the drunkard outside whistles.
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