One of my biggest nightmares is losing my work and having to start over from scratch; I would rather just say FUCK IT and walk away. How to Make an American Quilt has a scene like this, where conflict and a big stormy grey-skied wind (and maybe uncertainty and self-doubt -- IDK I only saw it once and can't remember it) snatch and blow away alllllllll of young college missy's neatly-stacked hard-earned writing.

This attitude of mine is a bit of a liability when it comes to building websites. It points to mediocrity, lack of a growth mindset, frustration with PRACTICE, ingratitude and poor stewardship of our assets, and just being unrealistic about the webmaster game in general: something I struggle with A LOT when it comes to giving our old paysites facelifts and bringing them into new updated eras. is the big one waaaaaaay past due (actually is the big TWO, since both the free area and members-only area need their own updates/rebuilds).

My resistance to redoing work I've already done is also a symptom of some okay-attributes, though; I'm excited to do NEW things. I don't feel like I'm learning enough redoing old stuff. I don't want to "waste" time. And I'm not super motivated to just rely on old assets simply to make more money.

Tonight I'm writing this post because I just banged out a couple of new graphics/banners for this site. I watched a tiresome video to learn how to make patterns in Canva (for a background for one of the images) and it was pretty much just as laborious a method as what I was going to do myself (a lot of copying and pasting) but forced myself to go on one of my "curiosity adventures" to see if there was an easier way (a couple of tidy shortcuts), but really it just gave me permission to do the labor without thinking I was being impatient not to try to learn a better way.

I made the new graphics (including doing the patience-requiring work of creating a pattern) anddddddddddd ... we're having a windy night so (or coincidentally) my new graphics did not save (yes, I did look in Canva's version history for this project and it does not show any activity in the past seven hours). And instead of redoing them tonight, I am writing this post to log it.

Logging it is not, though; recording this is an opportunity to process the frustration calmly. Note this pattern. Step back and look at the work and myself and the project objectively. Poke at the discomfort, and PRACTICE: I did this once. It did not take that long. It may not be exactly the same as what I successfully created, but I can make something just as good, even faster, tomorrow. With confidence, and no stress. It's a nice little warm-up.


SUBMITTING TO REDOs is an opportunity for all of those things, and peace. FLOW. GRATITUDE. APPRECIATION.