Website Logo. Upload to /source/logo.png ; disable in /source/_includes/logo.html

This is where I put my stuff.


| Comments

Its Monday. Again. Where’s my Monday Morning Panic Attack? Oh, there it is. Again. Right on time. Since we started PublikDemand a little over a month ago, things have moved at a lightning pace, but nothing like its about to be moving. Product? Almost there. Funding? Check. Check. Awesome cofounder? Check. Ridiculously supportive wife? Check, check, checkity check.

Right now I’m thinking about the multitude of boxes to check off before we can launch. Design. That last teency-tiny raft of actual features. Invitations. Admin features. Customer features. Analytics. Ad network. Rent out my house so I can move if we get into an incubator. Figure out how I’m going to pack said house.


Don’t they know I’m a fraud? Don’t they know the chances of success are only slightly better than those of Ron Paul actually winning a nomination? Don’t they know I’m almost 35?

This is never going to work. We’re insane for even trying.

I’m putting my family’s financial future on the line for this. I’m letting friends count on me for their own. Its going to blow up. Everyone’s going to hate me.

I can’t even get this blog entry out the way I want it. How the hell am I going to build a company that can sell millions in inventory every year?

Take a breath. Go outside. Smoke a cigarette. Remember why you don’t smoke. Have a screwdriver for breakfast.

Now: Man. The fuck. Up.

You are not Mama’s precious snowflake. You are not special. You are not a thought leader, a rockstar, or a ninja. Your Klout score sucks. Guess what?

You’ve still got to get it done.

Stop reading HN and freaking out about every funding-crunch-of-doom article. Stop thinking about valuations and how much equity you’re going to have to give away and when. Stop worrying about this design decision or that one and flip a fucking coin, because you don’t have enough traffic for either of them to matter. Stop dreaming.

Start building. And get the fuck over yourself, you’re not that important.