No Time Wasted

It is the early hours of the morning as I write this, and I have already lost count of how many ideas I have had today.

For a long time, I have struggled with a problem: a lack of focus. At least, that is what I used to think. Lately, though, I have begun to wonder whether I have less focus or simply more ideas. When there are too many ideas, the attention and time available to each idea and action naturally become scarce.

For instance, between typing into this text box, I went over to the browser and copied my portfolio page into Figma. I just wanted to get the newly designed vector avatarThere is actually a vector avatar in Figma already, but I was too lazy to look for it. That might be closer to the truth. Sometimes I am just like this: spontaneous, without chasing the optimal solution. People are not machines, after all. I suppose this is part of being human. so I could update my profile pictures on social media.

But once I opened the browser, another thought suddenly occurred to me: perhaps I could share my portfolio with Mom. I had been telling her I was working on it for quite a while, and now that a version was finally live, I ought to share it with her. Then I thought again: it was already two in the morning. Would I be disturbing her?

A few ideas were fighting in my head, so I had to come back to writing first. I could hardly let the urge to write slip away too.

After finishing the last paragraph, the ideas seemed to have made peace: I should send Mom the portfolio link after all. So I went off to share it. When I returned, the playlist had cycled around to a song that did not quite fit the mood, so I picked one that sounded more pleasant. Then I came back again to write this paragraph.

Not much time had actually passed, but I had already gone back and forth through several things. Being driven by these constantly emerging ideas makes me feel rushed.

At some point, I seem to have developed a habit: the first burst carries me forward, the second fades, and by the third I am spent. Since I know my enthusiasm lasts only a few minutes, I might as well use it. Whenever an idea comes along, I try to act on it quickly, before I change my mind again.

This approach once seemed to work well. At least, quite a few things actually got made because of that momentary impulse.

But now, it is starting to trouble me deeply.

I find it hard to accept doing only one thing at a time. When I am vibe coding, for example, I always want to open two more conversations, as though, while one is running, the other two cannot be allowed to sit idle. I keep feeling that time is limited and ideas are plentiful. Since I have already thought of them all, why not do them together?

Thinking about it, this habit may also have something to do with how much I use AI. Often, especially when I work with AI, a task takes several minutes, sometimes more than ten, after I send it off. So I send a prompt, see it start working, and naturally turn to something else. Just as I begin to get into that other thing, the first task may have a result, and I switch back. Over time, waiting seems to have become something that must not be wasted.

This reminds me of the time problems that often came up in elementary school math: the washing machine needs an hour, and homework takes half an hour. How long does it take to finish both? One hour, of course. I can do my homework while the washing machine runs.

As a child, I thought this was a clever problem. Looking back now, I seem to have turned it into a way of living. While AI works, I do something else; while code runs, I open another conversation; while a page is being generated, I take care of a third thing. In theory, no minute is wasted. It almost seems as though I am making the fullest possible use of time.

Strangely, though, I do not feel I have actually saved much time. More often, I am simply exhausted.

So impatient, and so greedy.

Thinking a lot and doing little has always weighed on me. Yet I cannot find anything that really helps. For me, slowing down does not seem to mean feeling at ease by default. Often, it makes me anxious instead, as though the ideas that suddenly appear will vanish unless I seize them immediately; as though the things I do not do now will never be done by my future self either.

So I can only keep rushing, switching back and forth between one thought and the next. I try to fill every wait and use every spare moment. In the end, it seems no time has been wasted, but I have been scattered into little pieces.

As I reach this point, I suddenly remember: I still have not changed the avatar I wanted to change in the first place.