One thing became very clear during my print on demand experiment this week: a week disappears fast when you actually have a life.
Work, everyday stuff, and helping a friend move over the weekend. Nothing dramatic. Just reality doing what reality always does — stepping in between plans.
And that’s kind of the point.

Because if I’m honest, this is the real environment these ExitLab projects have to survive in. Not a perfect, distraction-free bubble. Just normal weeks where time slips through your fingers and you don’t get nearly as much done as you thought you would.
Still, something important happened.
I didn’t suddenly realize that starting Hamster Wheel Exit — and publishing the ExitLab openly — would be demanding.
I’ve known that all along.
Continuity has always been my weak spot. Not because I don’t care, but because I know exactly what it requires: showing up regularly, publishing even when it’s routine, unglamorous, or slow. That awareness is actually one of the reasons I haven’t started projects like this before.
But this time, I decided to start anyway.
And yes, that still makes it a little terrifying.
Not because the ideas are risky.
But because this format doesn’t let me disappear.
I outlined the starting point for this project in ExitLab #1.
By putting this out there, I’ve built something that quietly demands I keep showing up. Writing. Reflecting. Moving the projects forward week by week. Even when progress is slow. Even when nothing looks impressive yet.
And that hits right at my nature.
I’ve always been a periodic person, not a continuous one.
I work in intense bursts. I go all in for a while, then I step back. I’ve been fully aware of this my entire life, and I’ve even built my work around it when possible.
There’s nothing new or surprising about that.
What is new is deliberately choosing a structure that keeps me engaged even between those periods, which is exactly what makes ExitLab uncomfortable, and useful.
It creates accountability without pretending life will suddenly become quiet or efficient. It doesn’t demand perfection or constant momentum. It just asks one thing:
Show up anyway.
The Uncomfortable Need
I think we often confuse what we want to do with what we need to do. They don’t always overlap. And more often than not, we have a blind spot when it comes to the things we actually need.
Right now, Hamster Wheel Exit feels like one of those things for me.
Not because I don’t want to do it — I do.
But because it’s something I need to build slowly, consistently, and in public, even when it feels messy or underwhelming.
As for the print on demand experiment this week, progress was modest but real.
I set up accounts and started laying the groundwork on several platforms:
- TeePublic
- Redbubble
- Spreadshirt
- Spring
- CafePress
- Zazzle

Beyond that, most of the work went into setting up the structure around the project: accounts, platforms, and a basic workflow for sharing it on TikTok, and over time also on Pinterest and Instagram.
I’ve also started publishing the first designs. Modest, but a start.
No sales yet. No wins to report.
Just the unglamorous first layer — getting inside the systems, understanding the interfaces, and putting stakes in the ground.
That’s fine.
It’s about testing whether I can build something that survives real life, real weeks, and my own periodic nature.
It feels a bit scary, especially after sharing my goals last week.
Looking at this week alone, I’m clearly far from them.
This is also what the experiment is testing, not only finished products and sales, but follow-through in real life.
And despite the slowness, the uncertainty, and the lack of visible results so far, the work itself feels meaningful.
That matters.
More will come.
