You know the children’s book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie? You give a mouse a cookie, he wants a glass of milk. Give him the milk, and he wants a straw. One thing leads to the next, and the next, and before you know it the whole house is different.
That’s me with AI.
A year ago, on October 17, 2025, I sat down at 4:52 in the morning and wrote the first sentence of a book. I didn’t know what the rest of my life was supposed to look like. I just knew I had to start figuring it out.
Then somebody handed me a new tool.
You give a girl an AI assistant, and she writes a book. Give her a book, and she wants a podcast. Give her a podcast, and she wants to celebrate the people who said yes to it.
So tonight, from my kitchen, I sent save the dates to every guest from the first season of Figureoutable Conversations, for a gathering in October 2027 on the Alabama Gulf Coast. Emails, Skool messages, Facebook Messenger: one by one, until everyone had theirs. A year ago I wouldn’t have known where to start. Tonight it took about thirty minutes.
Then, because I fly to Wisconsin tomorrow, I asked the same tool what to pack. It pulled the forecast for both places and gave me a list. (Next year I want a robot to pack it for me.)
Here’s what I’ve learned: the tool isn’t the magic. The magic is what happens to you once the little things stop eating your day. You stop asking “Can I?” and start asking “What’s next?”
I used to post into the void and wonder why nobody noticed. Now I’m not trying to be noticed. I’m deciding what my year looks like, and then I’m building it.
You give a girl a new tool… and she builds a new life.
What would you build if the little things took care of themselves?
