So, between roles and with time on my hands, I built Adulthood: a system prioritized around the promises I've made to myself. It reflects the life I want, measures it with real data, and shows me how to go get it today. It doesn't let me round up.
Your work life has a system: a CRM, dashboards, someone who notices when a number slips. Your actual life runs on vibes and memory. Adulthood is the thing I'd build for a client: one database with everything in it. Sleep, watts, calories, promises. A composer that writes my morning brief before I wake up. Advisors with rules for when they disagree.
It doesn't make me behave. Yesterday I was supposed to ride easy and went hard instead, because it felt great. The system just wrote it down and quietly rebuilt today around the consequences. Not getting to pretend, it turns out, is the whole point.
The story behind it, on LinkedIn →The daily brief, rebuilt in the app's own code, with real data queried from production on July 22. Sleep decides the day, Tina prices it, every promise gets a time slot. Further down, the cockpit is where yesterday's ride got caught.
What you just scrolled through is the same anatomy as a revenue stack: seven live integrations, one governed database, a rules engine for conflicts, AI that drafts while rules decide, and an audit trail on all of it. I just pointed it at myself first.
Under the hood: 80 tables · 131 security policies · 20 cloud jobs · 8,361 logged runs · the build, in depth →
The system doesn't make me good. It just makes the gap impossible to deny. And the gap is where I actually change.
I build revenue systems for a living: pricing governance, approval automation, data pipelines that sales teams actually trust. The same craft you just read about has shipped at work too: a commercial governance platform that processed $5.3M+ in deals (the case study). I'm looking for my next role: senior RevOps engineering, GTM systems, or revenue architecture, AI-native preferred. Consider this page the cover letter.