In Which I Hire Death

It’s been about 20 years since I built a website.

On Dreamweaver. Which, at the time, was cutting-edge stuff! It took a lot of the hassle out of the process.

Which I now realise wasn’t really that much of a hassle to begin with.

Now? I barely have a clue what’s going on. Everything has evolved and I need an English-to-Tech dictionary before I even get started.

So I turned to my trusty AI for assistance.

Assistance?

Pfft.

I can do the whole thing for you. Just tell me what you want and I’ll sketch it out.

So I gave it the ideas. I watched it working.

And ten minutes later, the bones of a website appeared.

OMG.

That was easy.

Home page. Projects. Writings. Art.

Then I thought for a moment.

It’s a shame there are so few current projects.

Because my wardrobe is littered with the remains of old ones. Things that were used obsessively for a couple of months before being consigned to an old shoebox or carrier bag, never to see the light of day again.

They deserved acknowledgement.

So I requested an additional page. A sort of project graveyard.

This is where things got slightly out of hand.

What began as a simple addition to the website turned into a mammoth task, because every time we improved something, I had another idea.

And then a better idea.

And then an idea about the previous idea.

By teatime we’d commissioned a cemetery, dug and then removed six numbered graves, hired an animated Grim Reaper, made him drag the corpse of an abandoned project into an open grave, discovered he wasn’t turning up for work on my phone, burned 84% of an AI agent allowance trying to locate him, eventually found him, then built an idyllic Cornish meadow so crows could bring us shiny objects to turn into even more projects for Death eventually to bury.

Good job my weekly usage allowance resets tomorrow.

Checking how many tokens I've used has become somewhat of a new obsession....