October 15th, 2024. 11:47 PM.
I’m staring at my GitHub profile. Forty-seven repositories. I start counting the dead ones:
AI-crypto-trader: 3 commits. Last touched: March 2023
VisionBoard-Pro: 7 commits. Last touched: January 2024
nasa-agi: 1 commit. “Initial commit.” That’s it.
(Dummy names here, but you get my point)
Forty-three corpses. Forty-three times I told myself “This is the one.”
Each project started the same way: late-night energy, new repository, perfect folder structure, README.md with ambitious roadmaps. That first-commit high.
Each one died the same way: quietly. Somewhere between the exciting architecture decisions and the boring implementation details.
I had become something I despised: a builder who doesn’t build. An engineer who only engineers excuses.
A Quick Translation
You don’t need to be an engineer to understand this.
- Maybe your graveyard isn’t code.
- Maybe it’s abandoned gym plans, half-read books, forgotten online courses, dusty business ideas, or that side hustle you keep restarting every January.
Different tools, same graveyard.
The Cost Calculation
Let me do the math that hurts:
Average time per abandoned project: ~20 hours
43 projects × 20 hours = 860 hours
That’s 107 eight-hour workdays
Or 21.5 work weeks
Or 5.4 months of full-time work
Thrown away. For what? For the dopamine hit of typing git init.
The Moment
That night, after completing a client project — actually finishing something someone paid me to do — I felt empty. After work, I was doing nothing creative. Just exercising, watching YouTube, scrolling. I could feel myself drifting further from the 1% I claimed I wanted to join.
The worst part? I was about to start another project. I could feel it. That familiar itch. “Maybe a new task management app…” my brain whispered.
No. Not this time.
The Comfortable Lies We Tell
Here’s what we don’t admit at standup meetings or in our Twitter threads:
- We’re not “exploring ideas.” We’re avoiding execution.
- We’re not “pivoting.” We’re running from complexity.
- We’re not “learning new stacks.” We’re procrastinating on the hard parts.
And every productivity app enables us. They’re built by people like us, for people like us. They give us what we want: gentle reminders, inspirational quotes, fresh starts every Monday.
“You didn’t complete your tasks today? No worries! Tomorrow is a new beginning!”
No.
You failed. You made a commitment to yourself and broke it. Again. And tomorrow you’ll do the same thing unless something changes.
The Pattern
- Week 1: “I’ll write for 2 hours daily.”
- Week 2: “1 hour is more realistic.”
- Week 3: “30 minutes is still progress.”
- Week 4: “I’ll start fresh next month.”
Every app lets you adjust your goals downward. They call it “being realistic.” I call it negotiating with failure.
I realized I didn't need another gentle reminder. I didn't need an app that would pat my head when I pushed a deadline. I needed something that knew my patterns and refused to accept my bullshit.
So, I opened my IDE one more time. Not for the dopamine hit, but out of desperation. I was going to build one last thing, and its only job was to stop me from creating corpse number forty-eight.
Where It All Turned
That night, something snapped. Not in the cinematic, inspirational way. More like the dull crack you hear when a cheap plastic hanger gives up. I realized I’d become addicted to beginnings, allergic to endings, and dangerously skilled at convincing myself it was fine.
It wasn’t fine.
So I built something that didn’t let me negotiate with myself. No dopamine hits. No shiny dashboards. No “gentle nudge” nonsense. Just a tool that knows exactly when I’m slipping and calls me out before another project gets dragged into the cemetery.
That tool became Grindrpoof.
What Grindproof Actually Does
It doesn’t care about your mood. It doesn’t care about your excuses. It watches your behavior the way your IDE watches for missing semicolons.
If you commit less this week than last week, it notices.
If your goal slips from “build feature” to “rename folder,” it notices.
If you start a shiny new repo while your current project is starving in the corner, it absolutely notices.
And instead of patting your head, it tells you the truth:
You’re self-sabotaging again.
I didn’t build Grindproof for productivity nerds. I built it for people like me. People with graveyards. People who can architect a distributed system but somehow can’t finish a weekend project. People who are tired of being inspired and ready to be held accountable.
If You’re Reading This... Try It
If any of this felt uncomfortably familiar, then good. It means you recognize the pattern, the graveyard, the excuses. Grindproof was built exactly for people who build fast and quit faster.
So here’s the deal: it’s live at grindproof.co. Try it. Break it. Tell me where it punches too softly or too hard. I’m shaping this thing with real builders, not productivity influencers who wake up at 4 AM to drink lemon water.
If you want to see what else I’ve been up to, you can check out more of my work at codefred.dev.
Your feedback will help me turn it into something genuinely useful for all of us who want to finish more than we start.
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