My Best Work Happens When I'm Staring at a Wall. No Employer Would Ever Understand That.
Published: March 11, 2026 - 5 min read
February 13th, 1:00 PM
I was sitting across a potential client. I walked in ready to show them what I could do, and I did exactly that. But somewhere between demonstrating my capabilities and answering their questions, the conversation shifted. They weren't looking for a consultant anymore. They wanted to hire me.
A real job offer. Stability. The kind of thing past Prisca would've jumped at without thinking twice.
And I said no.
I still can't fully wrap my head around it. I said no to stability. Me. The same person who spent months searching for a job, who knows exactly what financial security feels like when you don't have it. I sat there, looked at an opportunity that would've made so much sense on paper, and I politely said, no thank you.
I've been thinking about that moment a lot lately... especially as I make even more conscious efforts to heal my IBS.
The Carrots
This past Sunday, I was just cutting carrots when this blog post hit me. I had to stop and write immediately.
Now, why was I cutting carrots? Here's the chain of events. I had a to-do list ready for the day. But the pain got intense, so I had to step away from the computer. I sat in silence for a long while, staring at nothing, and then I remembered that my mom told me to start eating whatever I want again. I started new medications, and we have faith that it'll work this time. So I decided to take a chance and meal prep, since I couldn't bring myself to do anything else.
If you've been following my story, you'd know that I don't meal prep these days. My body could go from loving a meal one day to a full-blown reaction the next. So I cook each meal, each time, based on how I feel.
But I decided to do it anyway. And as I cut my carrots in silence, my brain started plotting.
What Silence Actually Produces
I've got clients to serve. People to teach. So much I want to do, but my body keeps fighting me. And in that silence, standing at my kitchen counter with a cutting board and a bag of carrots, my brain started solving a problem I'd been thinking about for a long time.
I wanted to give people the ability to create those eye-catching visuals I post on LinkedIn, generated right inside Claude using a pipeline I built myself. Not a course. Not a tutorial. Just one prompt that turns Claude into a LinkedIn image designer.
The idea had been marinating for days. But yesterday? I built the entire thing. The page, the prompt, the email confirmation flow, the automated delivery sequence. All of it. In a few hours.
The Question That Won't Leave
In all of these thoughts, I could not help but wonder... how could I ever survive a regular job?
It's simply not possible. Most of the work I do these days is done in silence, when my brain is plotting, because my body refuses to cooperate with me. How would I ever explain to an employer that sitting and staring at grass or a white wall is where my best work gets done? That I take long walks to think, and then the actual execution happens in short, intense bouts when I have energy?
Because frankly, the moment I'm in front of a computer, I work at a speed that is unimaginable to a lot of people. That's not a brag. That's just what happens when your brain has been silently architecting solutions for hours before your hands ever touch a keyboard. (Which is why I say that I'd be invincible the moment I'm fully healed, because of how much I know how to do.)
That's what happened yesterday. Days of silent thinking. Then one day of execution. A complete system, live and working, built at lightning speed because the thinking was already done.
I Believe I'll Be Well Soon
I'm taking new medications. Making environmental changes. Being more conscious about slowing down. Meditating. Seeing a doctor soon. You name it.
And I believe it'll work this time... soon, I hope.
Until then, my body's fight against me remains a challenge that I must continue to build systems to overcome. I can't let this stop me. There's too much I have to offer, and I can't just have it all sitting in my head.
That's why I said no on February 13th. Not because the opportunity wasn't good. But because I've built a way of working that fits how my mind and body actually operate. Silence. Thinking. Then building at a pace that makes the wait worth it.
No employer would ever understand that. But I do. And that's enough.
As always, thanks for reading!