Still Justifying

Missing a client deadline happens, and it's manageable. You ask for an extension, give a heads up, move on. No grief. That's part of the work.

Missing a deadline you set for yourself is a different thing entirely.

I set a date to publish my first preliminary house plan. I missed it. And then I started justifying.

The full-time job is demanding — I'm carrying four projects right now, which is a big deal coming back into a PM role after some time away. I've been closing inefficiencies, building better spreadsheets, automating reports that piece together information that used to be scattered. Real work. Legitimate reasons.

I caught myself mid-sentence. I'm justifying again.

Here's the thing about justifying to yourself: it can look exactly like self-awareness. You're evaluating, right? You're being honest about priorities. The income from the full-time role makes the side project possible — of course that comes first. Rational. Reasonable.

But there's a moment when you realize you've been explaining your way around the same thing three times. That's not reflection anymore. That's avoidance with a narrative.

The side project reality isn't dramatic. A handful of RSS subscribers. No traffic to speak of. No inquiries. But it's not nothing either. The sketches exist. The stages are documented. The process is evolving — even when the output isn't visible yet. Execution, when you've never launched a product, is actually evolution.

That doesn't silence the other question. Is my heart in this?

I don't have a clean answer. The demands of the full-time job are real, and they're pulling. Some weeks the side project gets whatever's left at the end, which isn't much. And in that space — tired, behind, staring at a deadline you already missed — it's hard to know if the doubt you're feeling is a signal or just noise.

Self-sabotage is a bitch. Especially when it comes dressed up as honest evaluation.

So I'll ask: do you keep your side projects going? What does that actually look like for you?

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Who's Buying the Housing That's Left