If Dante had worked in tech, one of the circles of hell would definitely be labeled “Assigned Jira Ticket with No Context.”

You open your Jira board. There it is—TKT-3487—with the description:

“Fix the thing that breaks sometimes when it does the thing.”

You scroll down. No attachments. No error logs. No comments. Just a cryptic sub-task labeled “Ask Ankur.” Ankur left the company 7 months ago and is now a yoga influencer in Bali. Good luck.

You click “Start Progress,” not because you know what to do, but because you want your name on a moving object. You add a comment: “Investigating,” which is Jira-speak for “Googling random things until I either give up or discover enlightenment.”

Hours pass. You find code that looks like it was written in Morse code and obfuscated by a caffeinated octopus. You ping someone on Slack for help. They respond with “Let me loop back,” and then vanish into a Microsoft Teams meeting wormhole.

By Day 3, you realize Jira isn’t a task manager. It’s a psychological thriller, and you’re both the detective and the victim.

You finally mark the ticket as “Done.” No one knows what you did, not even you. But the issue hasn’t resurfaced, and in this industry, that counts as success.

🪄 Wisdom:

Jira is less about solving problems and more about documenting your descent into madness.