Building a website is nothing like building a house. For example, if you build a house and decide you want to change the location of the kitchen, you have until a certain time in the process. Then, tough. The kitchen is where it is, and no amount of complaining will adjust that fact.

A website on the other hand is maleable. It's like modelling clay. Fundamentally, it is difficult to manuplate and change, but once you get the hang of it, the clay can be anything.

I've just spent the last nine months of my job building a website. No, correction. A Website. A massive and complex database of information fronted by a glistening facade of images and text, menus and buttons.

Tomorrow, it goes live.

Now, don't get me wrong. I live and breathe Internet. It is the railroad of my generation -- people's fortunes are lost an made in it's construction and operation. HTML puts food on my table, water in my sink, and DVDs in my DVD player. I write code for fun (case in point, look at what you're reading) and profit. It is a fundamental part of who I am these days.

But, tomorrow, it goes live. It is a project of a scope of which I have never before undertaken.

And tomorrow, it goes live.

I'm not saying it's anything special. It's a website. It's sixteen hundred pages large. It's a few dozen megabytes in size. It's a complex maze of decades woth of information, readable, printable, savable. It still needs to mature, like a fine wine, with the effort of time and dozens of people who need to hop on board (finally) and add their two cents. It is just a website.

But. Tomorrow. It goes live. Sigh.