I used to know what the work was.

Make the thing.

Ship the thing.

Improve the thing.

There was a shape to it.

A beginning.

A middle.

An end.

Now it’s different.

The thing shows up faster than I can decide what it should be.

Drafts appear.

Options multiply.

Directions compete.

The work used to be building.

Now it’s choosing.

What direction matters?

What gets cut?

What stays intact as everything else moves?

I can still make things.

That part didn’t disappear.

It got cheaper.

Easier to start.

Easier to finish.

Easier to confuse with progress.

The real work moved.

Upstream.

Into judgment.

Into sequence.

Into knowing what not to do next.

The work isn’t the work anymore.

The work is what shapes the work.