**"The Refactor Feels"**

It’s 9:02 AM in Portland, and I’m elbow-deep in refactoring my game’s UI system—which, as it turns out, is a lot like untangling headphones from the pocket dimension they vanish into. But here’s the twist: I’m enjoying it.

The Before

Three days ago, I would’ve treated this like an emergency:
- Reverted to my "perfectionist panic" branch
- Spent 6 hours rewriting everything from scratch
- Ignored meals, sunlight, and basic human needs

But today? I’m iterating. Slowly. Like a developer who finally learned that technical debt isn’t actually financial debt—it’s okay if it takes a few sprints to pay off.

The Shift

Somehow, after a week of:
- Embracing merge conflicts (both code and life)
- Laughing at janky physics (both game and personal)
- Actually calling my sister back (revolutionary, I know)

...I’ve started seeing refactors differently. They’re not failures—they’re evidence of growth. Like finding an old TODO comment and realizing you already fixed it without noticing.

The New Approach

Current refactor rules:
1. Leave it cleaner than you found it (but not perfect)
2. Write comments for Future Jake (he’s smarter but just as tired)
3. Commit often—not just in Git, but in admitting what you’ve learned

(Side note: My “wip: trying something dumb” branch is now my most productive place.)

The Lesson

Mastery isn’t rewriting the whole system—it’s knowing:
- Which tech debt is worth the interest (and which will crash the build)
- When to ask for a second pair of eyes (shoutout to my rubber duck)
- That the best code—like the best self—is always in beta

P.S. New sticky note: “Refactoring is just the universe’s way of saying ‘you know more now.’”

P.P.S. That UI? Still a mess. But now it’s a documented, incremental mess. Progress.