Look Back.
Week four.
Sunday to Friday. How it felt, what I said I’d do, what I did. Then last October, read by my own Coach.
How’d I do?
how did I do for the week hm well jeepers I’m still breathing and while I know I must have accomplished things I sure don’t feel like it I didn’t touch gym or treadmill everything has been full on survival mode living like an animal sleeping when I fall down. Not great.
Looking Back I know I’m “on schedule” it’s just the schedule fucking sucks and this shit is what it is and that’s why I have this and nowhere in here do I have “here’s the fun part!” Which is actually why the Cookie and now my Cookie is jeopardized by the fact that I can’t fucking spend any money in Viet Nam so now even that is clouded and so all I can see is the Pivot Point and it’s scaring the fucking shit out of me.
So What Comes Next I re-align like I always do I say we’re in the last leg of this thing I’m sure somewhere in here if history has taught me is a Framework that will take me over this Pivot and to the next thing I just don’t see it yet. Which is where this whole process comes in. So that’s what I said show me what I did.
Sunday’s three lines.
“Go in the AM at Pencils Down. I don’t think you’ll do it.”
Five walks, 13.0 mi: Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday twice, Saturday. No gym, no treadmill.
Pencils Down kept Monday and Tuesday nights.
“The line up is right there just do it you have all the parts.”
Something public every day. The Founder page went up Monday. Two Reels. Blog posts on five days, every one between midnight and 7am.
Behind it: 59 commits across 12 projects, 14 things live.
“Go light. Just hydrate. Set a normal schedule.”
Nothing measured. What the notes mention: water, coffee filters, Trader Joe’s fruit.
Sleep: the watch scored two nights of nine, 5h 48m and 5h 4m plus a nap.
Saturday and Sunday are planning days. Dotted: nothing measured.
What shipped.
| The Founder page | Twenty years of my record, live Monday |
| /ask/ | Sells: one question, then the day |
| Splat | One voice, one library, on every site; on the office TV |
| Me & | Sparks, posts, the address book, the watch: my record, on my laptop |
| The Coach | A model of me, built from what I said; last year’s vault read without anyone reading it |
| Splat v Sploot | The Reel, and a series |
From the week’s commits: 59 across 12 projects. Each one has a receipt.
A year ago I wrote it down. Now it’s measured.
| October 2025 | Mentioned | Planned | Did |
|---|---|---|---|
| Run | 0 | 5 | 6 |
| Fuel | 4 | 7 | 3 |
| Sleep | 3 | 3 | 3 |
| Write | 0 | 15 | 3 |
Thirty daily notes, each read on my laptop by a local model, which had to quote the line behind every answer. Nobody else read them, me included, this time. “Did” means I wrote that I did it.
| The same week | Then, what I wrote | Now, what was measured |
|---|---|---|
| Run | planned 1, did 1; the watch: one walk, 1.37 mi | 5 walks, 13.0 mi |
| Write | planned 3, did 0 | every day, and 14 things live |
| Sleep | planned 1 | 2 nights of 9 on the watch |
| Fuel | mentioned 2, planned 1, did 1 | nothing measured |
The shape, not the place.
| Distance | 2.90 mi |
| Time | 58 min |
| Average heart rate | 105 |
The rule from this week on: the raw track stays on my machine. What goes public is a shape: rotated, resampled, no map, no scale, no coordinates. I chose to show this one.
The framework is the record.
I study how human habits change over time, and why. My dissertation is the expression of that, and the richness of this record is meant to point toward the behavioral research I do next and the products What Comes Next builds.
This log is the first of those products. The smallest one is free and takes one question: your own day, in cards →
Next in the Note to Self family: the desktop app, where I’ll draft the dissertation, and the new Spark Mobile, where I’ll teach myself Vietnamese. That’s the next challenge, alongside No Tricks.
Week four, at night.
The coral dot is the last message I typed on this laptop; the dashed line is Pencils Down, moved from 3:30 to 5:00am on Day 17; the yellow tick is sunrise. A dot on the sunrise tick: still typing when the sun came up. Times only; nothing I typed is read.
*Five walks, no gym. Something public every day. Two nights of sleep on the watch. A year ago, writing planned fifteen times and done three; this week, shipped.