
First Light
Most deals aren't lost to a competitor. They die in your drafts folder, three days after the meeting went well.
CÈ
Your life, one week at a time
Each dot is a single week. The Stoics kept death in view not to despair, but to spend the squares that remain.
It reads like a sales tip. It is a diagnosis of what you are protecting.
The meeting went well. They nodded at the price, asked about timelines, said "send me something." You wrote the email that evening.
It is still there.
Every morning you open it, change a word, and close it again. You call this polishing. It is closer to hiding.
Here is what the draft does for you. While it sits unsent, the deal stays alive in your head. Nobody has said no, and a maybe costs nothing to keep.
The buyer runs a different clock. Someone who heard a good pitch on Tuesday has sat through four more by Friday, a budget meeting, and a boss asking what else is out there. Your silence reads as a seller who didn't want it much.
So the competitor is seldom what beat you. The calendar is. A buyer who would have signed on day two needs a fresh meeting by day ten, and by day twenty needs a reason to remember your name.
The fix is smaller than the fear. A follow-up needs three things: the one number they reacted to, a date, and a question they can answer with yes or no. Nothing in it has to be clever.
So today, open the drafts folder, take the oldest one, and schedule it for 8 a.m. Monday as it stands. A no on Monday tells you where to spend the week. A maybe kept for another week tells you nothing, and charges you for it.
