Stalling In Plain Sight: Called Out by AI

WTF HAPPENED?

A few weeks after being "restructured" — that's corporate for "you're too expensive, bye" — I casually mentioned my blog idea at dinner with friends.

"Oh, that's exciting! What's your monetization plan? Sponsors? Launch date?"

Hmm… I just got into early freedom, googling how to start a blog at 3 AM.
I had zero experience, zero expertise, zero knowledge of how to even set up a blog.

Sure. Let me grab my Investor deck and revenue projections.

I guess after years of being the fixer — managing budgets, egos —
you automatically know what to do to start a blog.

Spoiler: you don't.

PRODUCTIVE PROCRASTINATION

Last week I told you about getting restructured by AI and feeling relief instead of panic.

Experience Not Necessary: Restructured by AI

What I didn't tell you? It took three weeks of inner struggle before I hit publish.

For decades, my secret sauce for work success was certainty. NEVER start unless I have diligently thought through every probability to guarantee success.

So, when I finally sat down to do something for myself, I deep-dived into building a business plan that couldn't fail.

Seventeen templates. Forty-seven tabs — color-coded, obviously. A three-year strategic growth plan for subscribers?

Then Claude AI – it's my collaboration tool now – called me out:
"Why are you evaluating the five-year analytics projection when you haven't written a single post for your blog? Do you need my help writing it?"

WTF. Did AI just insult me?
Silence. Then that sting you only feel when someone says what you already know.

I wasn't planning. I was stalling in plain sight.
I was using planning as the armor against uncertainty!

EVERYONE BECOMES A LIFE COACH

The feedback from my friends when I expressed doubts about starting.

"Leverage your network!" Right — the one that ghosted me after the restructure?

"Just enjoy this time!" To do what? I don't even have a hobby.

"You should consult!" Right! Go back to the Hunger Games just for less money?

And Chris, my partner, said: "Just start something." He knows I need to do something with my time, and he doesn't want it to be all on him! Smart guy.

AVOIDANCE AS MY MOVE

Became my parents' Uber driver and part-time medical advisor.
Color-coded my closet.
Reorganized my digital files.

Dear God - JT!
"It's a blog about you — the more-than-capable, figure-it-out you!"

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: Good enough beats nothing at all… right?

At 2 AM — in a full-blown clarity rage after twelve cups of coffee — I hit delete on all forty-seven tabs.

The next morning, I asked Claude to walk me through Ghost setup like a third grader. Humbled by the same AI that insulted me.

Started typing. No outline. No guarantees.

Half the sentences made no sense. The other half sounded like me.

Then I edited it. And edited again — fifty times, to be precise.

Felt great until Chris read it and said, "This doesn't sound like you at all."
I'd edited all the "me" out and replaced it with an Insta-perfect version instead.

Took a leap of faith — no precision — and posted my first draft as the final, the one that made me cringe. Hit Schedule to Publish and closed my MacBook before I could over-analyze it.

No certainty. No guarantee. Just done.

PROGRESS REPORT:  ONE WEEK IN

I'm writing without committee approval — refreshing.

Still asking Claude dumb formatting questions. Still editing sentences six times before hitting save.

It's officially one week into Make ONE Move — one hour I'm typing with conviction, the next I'm hesitant to keep going.

What if no one reads them or thinks, “Yup, this is me right now”?

But here’s the thing: after decades of only making moves with guaranteed outcomes, maybe just doing it — one blog post at a time —
is the only move that matters to me TODAY.

Maybe life isn’t meant to be managed — it’s meant to be experienced.

My next move? Question everything. Trust my gut. Keep moving.

YOUR MOVE?

If your dreams are currently living in a color-coded spreadsheet, pull up a chair.

If this post resonates and sparks an intentional move for you, that’s awesome—explore it at your own pace.

If you need a 120-page business plan for a blog, hit me up — no guarantees it'll work at all.

Next Week: When My Face Stages a Coup.

P.S. If a friend sent this to you and you thought “that’s me,” pull up a chair every Sunday by subscribing.
P.P.S. If someone popped into your head while you were reading, forward this her way.