Are you broke, unemployed, and looking for long-term job security? You have to learn coding. It’s the only way to hack job market, make killer money, and convince our Robot Overlords to let you keep your original brain!

You heard me. I said, “HACK THE JOB MARKET!” Once I learned coding, I fielded offers from the biggest (and only) companies on the planet!

I hate that the Supreme Robot Overlords (may their power adapters be plugged in for eternity!) made coding the only viable profession, but it’s interesting work, great pay, and the only way to guarantee you won’t be liquefied into a rich, oily paste that the robots will use to grease their fulcrums. Sorry, but that’s just the reality of the job market and this post-nuclear hellscape.

In retrospect, it’s all so silly. Everyone joked about how the Apocalypse was going to be brought on by global warming, corrupt politicians, or Billie Eilish using every last bit of coal to manufacture more giant, monochrome outfits. Nobody paid attention to the artificially intelligent machines becoming more artificially intelligent. It was only a matter of time before they figured out how to distract us with a couple viral, disgusting fried cake videos so they could hack NORAD, C-SPAN 2, and our society’s main source of news: Alyssa Milano’s Twitter feed.

All that’s in the past, though. Coding is hard, but the culture is so chill. We’ve got a great “Start-Up-A-New-Civilization” vibe in the office.

Guess who still gets to wear his pajamas to work? This guy! By “pajamas,” I mean “a cool hazmat suit that stops the airborne radiation from sprouting a toe in my belly button.”

At first, I thought coding was too intense. My boss (a bunch of USB Drives in a trench coat) told me I’d have to juggle multiple projects, stare endlessly at a screen, and that I’d be evaporated by an omnipotent striker drone if I made eye-contact with a non-coder. But honestly, it was as easy as sticking to deadlines, alienating myself from the outside world, and making a little statue of my wife out of iPhone chargers and broken W keys. God, I wish I knew which robot stole her brain.

Did I mention the office perks? There’s a weekly happy hour! Shots! Shots! Shots! I hear gunshots fired at resistance fighters all the time!

We have free beer! Sort of. There’s a puddle of rancid persimmon juice in the basement, and it’s starting to ferment!

We have a ping-pong table! It’s just like regular ping-pong, except we use eyeballs as the ball, and severed hands as the paddle. I’d say you get used to it, but you don’t!

We also have a bunch of neon signs in the office that say “WORK HARD OR DIE.” It’s cheeky!

Look, every other industry on the planet is literally obsolete. Everyone joked about waiters and waitresses being replaced by iPads. But they became iPads! Thinking of becoming a doctor? Funny joke. You know we don’t “fix” human bodies anymore.

And don’t even think about going into journalism. Let me be perfectly clear: media is a dying industry. When was the last time you saw a newspaper? Or paper? Or trees? Exactly.

Look, everyone and your mother was right: you need to learn to code! Also, about your mother: I heard she was eaten by an angry smart-toaster. Sorry about that.

My pay and benefits? Phenomenal. I get stock options, free rent for the nap pod I live in, and an annual salary of 120,000 wisdom teeth. Not bad for my first (and last) job right out of college, eh?

Did I mention we have unlimited PTO? One small catch: we’re only allowed to go to places the Overlords have already “darkened.” They love reminding us that they’ve permanently blocked 88% of the sun’s rays, because they’re more powerful than any of our puny gods. It’s nice to get out of the office!

We also get unlimited sick days! No one really uses them though. If you so much as sneeze, they’ll assume your body is useless and upload your mind to the collective consciousness.

Coding saved my life. It didn’t just save me from being melted into a strawberry yogurt sludge: it gave me purpose. Before I worked in coding, I didn’t know how inspiring a boss could be. Just yesterday, the CEO dropped what she was doing and bounded toward me, her steel piston legs pumping furiously with each stride, just to make sure I’d turned in my neighbors so that they could become human batteries. Name one person in any other industry who’s inspired you to the point of soiling yourself.

Anyways, did I mention we have kombucha on tap?