Once you ship your first idea on the internet, it rewires your brain. You go from consumer to creator. You see the matrix now. The first time you wake up to Stripe notifications from strangers buying something you built on a weekend, you're done. You'll be sitting in quarterly planning meetings, but all you can think about is the $29 that just hit your account during slide 14. That's when you know you're cookeddd. Customer DMs hit different than performance reviews. Some kid in Poland says you saved him 10 hours a week. Someone in Texas shows you how your thing doubled their revenue. Meanwhile, your manager wants to discuss your professional development plan. You start seeing how broken everything is. Your company spends $50k on consultants to solve what you fixed with a spreadsheet. Fifteen people in meetings about problems you solved on Saturday night. Every product you ship teaches you something. First ten products: mostly garbage, but you're learning. By product twenty, you finally crack distribution. By product thirty, you're dangerous. You build in hours what companies discuss for months. The compound effect is real but slow. You might ship 19 things that nobody sees. Number 20 randomly hits. Then you reverse engineer why and repeat it. Most people quit at product 3. The unemployable ones can't stop at 30. Once you've tasted building for your own audience, employment feels like a costume you wear. You can't unknow what you know. Can't unsee the opportunity. Can't go back to asking permission. Pick the smallest problem in your life this weekend. Build the dumbest solution. Charge money for it. Most people die with ideas inside them. You're going to die with shipped products and an audience that remembers you. AI makes it so anyone is a founder if you want it. If you made it this far, I'm rooting for you. You're an unemployable founder.