Winter Break Of Code Day Eleven
Every morning at standup I’d watch the knife spin in slow motion, dread filling my chest and
a voice in my head repeating, over and over, “not Slytherin.” (The target of the knife is the
author of the next day’s blog post). I wasn’t sure that I could find new ways to marvel at
the wonderful absurdity of stepping on a plane and trading reality for this – a chance to
work on the world with a group of people that I’ve only admired from afar. I wasn’t sure
that I had anything to say that hadn’t already been said by my new friends.