Last night turned into one of those extended work sessions where time blurs into a single stretch of coding, writing, and planning. By the time I finshed, it was 5 AM, and the only sound left was the occasional hum of a distant car. There’s something about these late-night sprints that condenses what would normally take days into hours. Maybe it’s the lack of distractions, or maybe it’s just the momentum of being deep in the zone. Either way, progress happens in these bursts, uneven but undeniable.
Edzy, the gamified AI tutor I’m building, is at a stage where everything feels both urgent and unfinished. The product outline needs refining, emails to potential collaborators sit half-written, and the codebase has gaps that need filling. The scope is wide enough that it’s easy to jump between tasks without finishing any, but last night was different. One feature led to another, and before I knew it, the foundational logic for user progress tracking was in place. It’s not polished, but it’s there—something to build on.
Working late isn’t sustainable, but it’s not always about exhaustion. There’s a clarity that comes when the world is quiet, when the pressure of immediate replies and meetings fades. Last night was less about grinding and more about flow—the kind where ideas connect without force, where the next step seems obvious instead of uncertain. That’s rare, and when it happens, it’s worth leaning into, even if it means resetting sleep for a day.
By 8:30 AM, I was back on calls, shifting from solitary work to conversations with others. The contrast is sharp—switching from deep focus to the scattered energy of meetings, emails, and quick decisions. It’s not ideal, but it’s part of the process. Building something new means balancing both modes: the long, uninterrupted stretches and the rapid back-and-forth of coordination. Neither works alone.
These phases come and go. Right now, the momentum is high, and the list of tasks is longer than the hours available. But that’s how it always is at the start. The key is to keep moving, even if some days look like 5 AM finishes and 8:30 AM starts. The alternative—waiting for the perfect rhythm—means not moving at all.