I’m not really a diary or journal sort of girl; that’s just not my thing. I mean, sure, I use notebooks when I’m doing my actual writing (stories, that is), but I’ve never been the type to open up and express my feelings.

(I’d much rather repress all of my negative emotions and allow them to fester and blow up on me later, when it’s super inconvenient, is the thing.)

In any case, this project is just becoming something that nightmares are made of, for me.

I’m on my second idea for this dumb fake product, and the more code that I write, the more I find myself hating CSS and HTML–or XHTML, whatever you want to call it.

Which is hilarious and strange, because I certainly haven’t forgotten the challenge of writing code for websites, but I don’t remember hating it with quite this much intensity before.

I’ve always enjoyed a challenge, but this creative block is honestly just

absolutely exhausting. I feel like I’m choking on my own frustration. I feel like I should be better at this.

I keep thinking about something one of my teachers told me, not too long ago.

I had just finished the final for the class, and I expressed concern over my grade. He had smiled at me, rather sardonically, and insisted that he knew my grade would be perfect. When I asked him why, he told me, “Because you’re one of those perfectionists.”

It hadn’t been a compliment.

It’s all quite hilarious, because a friend of mine once warned me against trying to make a career out of something I enjoyed. “You’ll start hate it,” she had told me.

I know this will pass; I know this is just one little bump in the road, and I’ll get passed it. But, right now, it seems like the end of the world, and I feel like I would have more success just knocking myself out with my own keyboard.