Original Advice

DO: Time-box tasks into 25-minute sprints with breaks.

Aim, Fire, Rest, Repeat

Your wild aim loves the horizon more than the finish. You wander, you tab-hop, you chase a bigger idea to dodge a small task. That is still avoidance, dressed as vision. Time is not a field; it is a fence. Cut the day into 25-minute pens. Enter one. Close the gate. Work until the bell. Then walk out.

Sprint because your fire burns bright, then sputters. Give it containers. Twenty-five minutes forces a target your arrow can hit. A bell gives dopamine without doom. Breaks protect the flame, not the excuses. Stack four rounds; call it a hunt. Reset the browser. Set a timer you can hear. Keep a visible tally. Let rhythm replace drama. Let repetition do the traveling.

Cosmic Context

You are mutable fire—built to roam, not to idle. Sprints give you new horizons on demand, so your arrow keeps flying without vanishing into fog.

Action

──────

Kill all tabs except one; run four 25-minute rounds.

You are allowed to work in sprints and still be epic.