Eleven projects and no front door

I did an inventory this week. Eleven things built far enough to use, sitting in folders on one laptop. A focus tracker I open every morning. A camera app for weddings. A supplement brand with a finished label. A bot quoting both sides of a prediction market. None of it exists anywhere a person could find it.

That is a strange result. The building was never the bottleneck. The bottleneck was that finishing, for me, has meant "it works on my machine now" and then moving on to the next idea, which is a very efficient way to spend a year and have nothing to point at.

So this is the front door, and this is the log.

The rule

One entry a week. What I built, what broke, what I read, what I changed my mind about. Short. Not an essay, not a launch post, just a receipt.

The point is not the audience, at least not yet. The point is that a public counter is much harder to lie to than a private one. If entry twelve is dated three months after entry three, that tells me something I would otherwise be able to explain away.

What is actually here

The projects page is a backfill. Eleven writeups of things that already exist, written honestly, including the ones that are parked and the ones where the code works and the distribution does not. I would rather publish an accurate status than a hopeful one.

If a pattern jumps out at you reading them, it is this: every single one started as a problem I personally had, and the ones I am still using are the ones where I was the actual user. That is not a strategy I chose. It is just what survived.

Next week

Timeglass out of the folder and into something a stranger can install. That means code signing, a payment path, and a landing page, which is roughly four days of work I have been avoiding for two months.

Let us see if writing that down here changes anything.