Weekly Log: The Trap of Fake Progress

Editor’s Note: This is a painful log to write. It’s about recognizing when “hard work” is actually just a way to avoid the scary work.

Context

For the past ten days, I’ve been buzzing around like a headless fly.

After launching the initial version of “GiftWise” (now Mindgift), I looked at it and felt… underwhelmed. It felt too simple. A “half-baked” prototype. A voice in my head kept saying, “This isn’t ready. It needs more features. It needs to look professional.”

But instead of asking users what they thought, I took a sharp turn into the rabbit hole of “Global Infrastructure.”

The Trap

I convinced myself that I needed to solve the Payment Problem immediately.

I became a detective of payment gateways. I spent days reading terms of service, comparing fees, and figuring out verification processes for:

  • PayPal: Dealing with regional restrictions.
  • Stripe: Realizing the hurdles of requiring a Hong Kong entity.
  • Creem: Investigating newer alternatives.
  • Virtual Cards: Assessing the risks of bans.

I eventually registered a PayPal China account and verified a Creem account. I felt productive. I was “building the business foundation.”

Then, I looked at my dashboard. Zero users. Zero revenue.

I had built a complex pipeline to collect money from absolutely no one.

The Reality Check

To add insult to injury, I had also integrated the GPT API to make the tool “smarter,” assuming this would magically attract users.

I opened Google Analytics. The line was flat. Dead flat. It stared back at me like a stranger.

I realized I was stuck. All the tutorials say “Step 2: Promote your product.” But for me, an introvert (MBTI “I” type), that sentence feels heavier than writing 10,000 lines of code.

I know the channels: X (Twitter), Reddit, Product Hunt. They are right there. But the thought of posting my “half-baked” project makes my palms sweat. I was using technical tasks—optimizing UI, setting up payments—to procrastinate on the real work: Distribution.

I almost convinced myself to quit. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

The Pivot

I decided to talk to the only “consultant” available at 3 AM: AI.

I poured out my frustration. Interestingly, it didn’t tell me to code more. It gave me three specific, non-technical instructions:

  1. Speak Human, Not Tech: Change the title. Stop describing the “recommendation engine.” Call it something like “3 Questions to Find Your Gift Personality.”
  2. Introvert-Friendly Copy: Prepare a script for sharing. Write it down in a note app so I don’t have to improvise when I post.
  3. Define “Micro-Success”: Stop thinking about money.
    • Goal for next week: Get 5 real pieces of feedback (even insults count) or 10 email signups.

Next Steps

This advice shifted my perspective. I’m not “building a startup” this week. I’m just trying to get 5 people to talk to me.

I’ve written down the “introvert-friendly” copy. I’m going to choose a day when my anxiety is manageable, close my eyes, and hit Post.

If you don’t hear from me next week, it’s not because I quit. It’s probably because I’m hiding from the comments. (Just kidding… mostly.)

Wish me luck.


About the Author

Mason is a software engineer turned indie hacker, learning to build and sell to the global market. Follow my journey on X (Twitter) or subscribe to the RSS Feed.