The Ink Chapel

Today was one of those days where every single task required me to fight for my fucking life.

Not metaphorically either.
Spiritually.
Technologically.
Artistically.
Emotionally.

I woke up thinking:
“Today seems manageable, yes.”

Which was my first mistake.

I decided to work on my blog because apparently I enjoy creating problems for myself. Somewhere between dealing with my domain, customizing headers, and trying to look like a mysterious literary woman with unresolved trauma, WordPress humbled me immediately by splitting my title into:

THEINKCHA
PEL

Like congratulations to me on accidentally naming my website after a 19th-century disease.

Then came the battle of trying to resize text in WordPress, which apparently requires sacrificing three goats and solving a riddle from a bridge troll before it lets you click the correct layer.

After that, I realized I couldn’t log into X because apparently at some point in my life I either:
A) created a password while sleep deprived
B) used Sign In With Apple
C) sold my soul to Elon Musk unknowingly

No clue.

None.

Then art class entered the chat.

Perspective drawing.

Perspective drawing is not art.
Perspective drawing is geometry wearing a fake mustache pretending to be creativity.

“Find the vanishing point.”
Lady, I am the vanishing point.

Every line looked wrong.
Every box looked like it belonged in a collapsing alternate dimension.
At one point I genuinely stared at a cube for 15 mins straight, (no exaggeration) I think it started mocking me.

Meanwhile every tutorial online is some guy calmly saying:
“Just lightly sketch your guidelines 🥴”

Sir.
I am one inconvenience away from becoming a cryptid in the woods & joining Cal reincarnate.

Inserting below my headache for proof.

Honestly though…
after all the technological suffering, emotional spiraling, accidental typography crimes, and perspective-induced psychological warfare…

At least my website looks good.

Which honestly feels rude.

Because why does personal growth only happen after absolute nonsense?

Anyway.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be sitting here pretending I understand perspective while listening to a documentary describe crimes against humanity in a calm British accent.

Footnote: Somewhere out there is a person who understands WordPress completely. I fear them.

© The Ink Chapel — professionally held together with sweet iced tea, sarcasm, and one remaining thread of sanity.