What Happens If I Press This Button?

As an autodidactic amateur coder, I draw parallels and contrasts to things I know to the things I want to know.

And it's clear that when you build something, sometimes things break.

You make big updates, but something along the line was ignored, accidentally erased, or just downright incompatible, making the whole thing not work.

It happens so frequently that after every change my goal is to try and break it, use it until I find a point of failure (which I usually can). 

So there's this delicate balance.

Of making improvements but keeping it running optimally.

Of adding new features but not over clunking the experience.

Of changing things but not crashing it all down.

This is where that word, iterating, becomes so key.

You tinker. You add. You see if it still works. See if you like the changes. Then tinker again.

In theory, there's a time when you stop tinkering, when you move on to another project or priority. But it's nice to think you can come back, revisit, at any time. This is what's different about code. You can always go back.

Change the past.

You can even make backups. You should make backups.

I suppose you can do this in real life, but not in a time machine sense.

So here's hoping all your updates are upgrades.

And that you never break.

We both know that's not going to happen forever.

But that's part of the fun.