Building a website is a bit like tidying your desk. You start with a clear goal — make it functional, make it look good — and for a while, things go smoothly. You fix a bug, adjust a layout, add a nice little feature. It’s satisfying.

Then you look at it again and think, “Maybe I should just change that one thing.” That’s where it begins.

You add a new section and it looks great. But now the colours feel slightly off. You fix the colours, but then the font doesn’t feel right anymore. You swap the font, and suddenly the spacing looks strange. Before you know it, you’ve spent an hour adjusting margins by a few pixels, convinced it’s making all the difference.

Debugging has its own rhythm. Sometimes it’s quick — you spot the missing semicolon, fix it, and move on. Other times it’s like chasing a shadow. You fix one problem, and another one pops up somewhere else. You scroll through lines of code you wrote last week, wondering what past‑you was thinking.

And yet, there’s something addictive about it. That little rush when the page finally loads the way you imagined. The quiet satisfaction of a layout that just clicks. Even the overthinking has its charm — it’s part of the process, part of why the end result feels like yours.

In the end, a website is never really finished. It just reaches a point where you can close the laptop, take a step back, and let it be… until the next time you get the urge to “tweak just one more thing.”