Nobody posts pictures of the cleanup.
You see the launch, the submission, the shiny new thing with the confetti. Nobody films the week after, when you walk back through everything you built at a dead run and see what’s still standing. That was my week of October 19. Glamorous, I know.
The week before, I’d been building at SheBuilds, Lovable’s building program for women, on a deadline and with a lot of help from AI. I’ve built a fairly deep setup for how my AI works with me: standing instructions, saved routines, and rules about what it can and can’t touch. A time-bound sprint is a real test of all that. When you’re focused and pushing toward a deadline, every bit of friction gets louder. The thing that’s mildly annoying on a regular Tuesday becomes genuinely frustrating on build day. Sometimes it ends with me typing in ALL CAPS!
So the first part of my cleanup was going back through my AI sessions from the sprint and finding where the friction came from. Not “the AI was annoying.” Where, exactly, and why.
One example: during SheBuilds planning, my AI put due dates on a stack of tasks with no time on my calendar to actually do them. My instructions already said not to. It skipped the rule anyway. A date with no time behind it is a wish. A very organized-looking wish, but a wish. So I approved one plain sentence in the rules it reads before it touches my task list: a task gets a date only when there’s a block on my calendar to do the work. Now dates get set in my twice-a-week planning sessions, where I sort my running list of ideas and to-dos and check my project plans, so every date comes with time attached.
Here’s the thing about peeling an onion: it doesn’t stop at one layer. Once I started looking at where my setup pinched during the sprint, I started seeing where it wasn’t working as well for me as it should, sprint or no sprint. Then all the other cleanup rose to the top, the stuff that had been sitting on my backlog for a long time, waiting for a gap.
This was the gap. The week before, I built something. Next, I turn it into something people can actually use. In between was a little breathing room, and after a week like that, it was nice to sit back and do the things that make me feel organized and ready for the next round. A lot of it was voluntary. Which brings me to the space.
On Sunday, October 25, during my weekly reset, I renamed one folder. It had a single stray space at the front of its name, which made it sort oddly and tripped up searches. It had been flagged on August 12. Fixing it took seconds. It had been on my list for ten weeks. Lord. I’m choosing not to do the math on that, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t either.
If you’re building something of your own, here’s what I’d hand you. The mess isn’t a sign you’re doing it wrong. It’s what building fast looks like. And chances are, you and the AI companies so many of our tools sit on top of are both building fast. The trouble only starts when you stop looking and don’t set aside regular time to clean up, because the mess keeps building on itself. Then that mess becomes like the pile of dirty laundry in the corner and eventually really starts to stink.
So after your next big push, pick a time, even a short one, and walk the house, gather up all the laundry, and do the wash, dry, and fold. Ask where it pinched when you were pushing hardest. Ask whether that was a one-time thing or a sign your setup isn’t working for you. And ask what’s been sitting on your list so long that now, in the gap, it’s finally its turn.
You’ll find something. You always do. Usually it’s small, sometimes it’s a space, and once in a while it’s the thing that would have bitten you in front of the people you’re building for.
Hit reply and tell me your stray space: the tiny fix that’s been on your list way longer than it deserves. No judgment. Mine sat there for ten weeks.
~amy