I don't know if this even counts as a confession, really. More like... a slow whisper you tell yourself in the dark, you know? Sometimes you just... you look back at choices, small ones, seemingly insignificant at the time, and you realize they were the real pivots. The big, loud ones, everyone sees those. But the quiet ones... those are the ones that really shape things. There's this little bakery I have, it's called 'Sweet Nothings.' Silly name, I always thought, but people liked it. We make these artisanal pastries, you know, things that really... sing. And for years, people have been saying, "You need an online site, Martha. You're missing out on so much." And they were right, of course. The holidays, especially. That's where you make your bread, literally and figuratively, for the whole year. So I hired someone, a bright young man, very clever with all the digital things. He had the whole site ready, absolutely beautiful. But then... then I saw the font. Just one, mind you. For the product descriptions. It wasn't quite... right. It lacked a certain... *je ne sais quoi*. A subtle elegance, perhaps. A warmth that still felt clean. And I told him, "Could we just... could we try a few others?" And then a few became many. And the days turned into weeks. And suddenly, the holiday rush was here, and the site wasn't launched. And now it's January, and it's still not launched. You know that feeling when you're caught in a loop? Like a perseveration, I think they call it in psychology. You know it’s not serving you, you know it’s irrational, but you just can't quite... break free. It’s like a tiny, exquisite obsession that just devours everything else. I just wanted it to be *perfect*. Not just good, but... achingly, perfectly beautiful. And now... now the window for so much potential revenue is just closed. And it's my fault. Not the bakery's fault. Not the font's fault. Mine. And I just... I feel this quiet ache. A slow, dull disappointment. And I don’t know if anyone really understands that kind of longing for something that never quite was.