The incessant beeping of an alarm rose me from a slumber I had not realised I had fallen into. Eyes cracking open, I reach out and turn the offending device off, before my senses switch on, and I realise I’ve fallen asleep at my computer screen again.

Damn. Fifteen weeks of programming code, arguing with the graphic artists and the project leader, and my head swam with code. No wonder my body had decided that my bed would now be replaced by my comfy computer chair.

As I stretch my back, to work out the various kinks that had accumulated during the three hours of sleep I had managed to get (I looked in horror at the time on the clock), I think back on this project, which seemed, at the moment, as if it would never end.

The project had been easy enough to start. A high profile company wanted a new game to be created as part of its redirection in the industry, and we had the experience of creating the games they wanted. Of course, we didn’t really think about the whiny, perfectionist graphic artists who were involved in this, and whose complaining about the syntax and god knows what else was dragging this project to the ground.

Not to mention the lead programmer had never taken charge of a project before, and that at times we felt his head was so big, it wouldn’t even fit up a hippopotamus’s behind, given half the chance.

I let out a sigh, tiredness getting to me. We’d nearly finished the basic coding, now we had to really get to grips with the graphics, and try not to murder anyone along the way.

The screen shows far too many lines of code for my brain to process at this moment. I have sat at this computer for so long, I dream in code nowadays. Part of me thinks that my mind is telling me something there, but I don’t care. I get paid well to do something I usually love, and I feel most fulfilled when I am creating something that is…purely digital. I can’t explain it. It is as if I was born to work with ones and zeros, with Java and C++, to live my life in a world of syntax.

And although I yawn with a tiredness that I’ve felt ceaselessly for weeks, I smile to myself, as I know I’d not have it any other way. And as I type on for hours before clicking to submit the latest piece to the lead programmer, I only hope I can continue to feel complete, surrounded by ones and zeros.