I‘ll kick this thing off with something I wrote over three years ago. I‘m not normally one for admiring my own work, but I actually found it rather apt. It certainly stands out from the heap of vapid, self-deprecating post-teen angst that constitutes most of my old writings.

This paragraph is just to test the spacing between two paragraphs.

Designing websites is hard work. It consumes a lot of time. Once it manages to grasp you, pull you into its clutches, draw you into its unfathomable depths, it becomes so difficult to lift your ass off your seat even to eat or piss that you start hoping that someone could put you on intravenous drip and magically transform your computer chair into a toilet seat. I like it, though, because it is so much like solving puzzles. As I suppose most “coding” is—I wouldn‘t know.

Solving puzzles. I mean, something just doesn‘t work, and you have to figure out why the hell not. You lean forward, closer to the monitor, and, somehow, begin to feel a peculiar sort of pleasant frustration—frustration at the fact that something‘s not working, and pleasure of having just been faced with a new conundrum, like Holmes at the crime scene, one which only you bring into dénouement.

It‘s not always because of the stupidity of the language itself, either—you make one idiotic fuck-up and boom, your site looks like it had been made on crack; or you spend 15 minutes looking for the mistake in the code, only to notice after 5 minutes of furiously hitting refresh, confounded, that you‘ve edited the wrong damn file.

Oh well.