Eight weeks ago, I sat frozen at my desk—the cursor blinking like a judgmental eye. Another Monday. Another newsletter deadline missed. My “writing day” had dissolved into 7 hours of email ping-pong, TikTok spirals, and staring at a wall.
Then something snapped.
I grabbed a red marker and scrawled on my calendar: “HOW MANY REAL WORDS DID YOU WRITE TODAY?”
What followed wasn’t just productivity porn. It was a reckoning.
Today? I draft three articles before my coffee gets cold. My brain feels like a laser-guided missile. And no, I didn’t join a cult or buy a $997 course.
Let’s talk about the three lies we tell ourselves—and how to fix them.
Lie #1: “I Worked for Hours!” (Spoiler: You Didn’t)
We’ve all been that student Jordan Peterson grilled—claiming 4-hour library sessions while secretly clocking 45 minutes of actual work.
Here’s my dirty secret: For years, I counted “writing time” as:
- Scrolling research tabs (aka Wikipedia black holes)
- Rewriting the same opening sentence 12 times
- “Thinking breaks” that magically turned into 3-episode Netflix binges
The Fix: Track raw focus minutes like a hawk.
I used Toggl to log every undistracted writing sprint. The results were humiliating:
- Week 1: 22.6 hours at desk → 4h 17m actual writing
- Week 4: 18.3 hours at desk → 9h 55m writing
Less desk time. Double the output.
Lie #2: “I’ll Fix Everything Tomorrow”
We’re wired for dramatic overhauls—”New Year, New Me!” energy. But lasting change? It creeps in through 5% daily upgrades.
Here’s what worked:
- The 2% Tidier Workspace Rule: Each morning, I spent 90 seconds decluttering one distraction (e.g., moving my phone charger to another room).
- Sentence Sprints: Instead of “write 1,000 words,” I’d race my oven timer to finish 3 messy sentences in 5 minutes.
- Error Celebration: Highlighting cringe-worthy drafts with a sticky note: “This garbage gets me closer to gold.”
By week 6, my “rituals” felt automatic:
✅ Noise-cancelling headphones on
✅ Phone in a timed kitchen locker
✅ Hemingway-editor mode activated
Lie #3: “Discipline = Deprivation”
We picture productivity monks chained to desks. But constraints? They’re freedom in disguise.
My three non-negotiable rules now:
- The 90-Minute Firewall: No app notifications until I hit “stop” on my Focus@Will playlist.
- Progress > Perfection: If I don’t laugh at at least one terrible draft per session, I’m editing too early.
- Aftercare Matters: 15-minute walks where I verbally summarize what I wrote (no notes allowed—forces clarity).
The magic isn’t in the rules themselves. It’s in treating writing like brushing teeth—unremarkable, essential, impossible to skip.
Your Turn: Become a Content Factory
You don’t need more time. You need to weaponize the time you’ve already got.
Try this tonight:
- Grab a sticky note.
- Write your ugliest, most vulnerable writing confession (“I spend 40 minutes daily reorganizing bullet points”).
- Below it, scribble: “What if I did the opposite for just 5 minutes tomorrow?”
That’s your gateway drug.
Eight weeks from now, you’ll be the person others side-eye at coffee shops—the one casually churning out pages while they’re still doomscrolling.
The factory floor is open. Clock in.
