Finding Your Rhythm: Why My 12-Hour Day Creates the Same (or More) Value as Someone Else’s 8

“Hey, got two minutes?”

That’s how half my ideas start. Sometimes it is just two minutes. Sometimes it turns into a brainstorm, a roadmap, or a spontaneous back-and-forth that unpacks a whole strategy.

I’ve always worked like that.

Before COVID, I’d walk the halls, swing by someone’s desk, catch people in the kitchen. I’d check in, riff, bounce ideas. It wasn’t scheduled, it was constant, low-level, ambient collaboration. That’s how I stayed in sync and how I got things done.

Post-COVID? Now I do the same thing digitally, Slack huddles, FaceTimes, DMs, quick video drops. Same rhythm, different tools.

It’s not the most efficient way to work. But it’s mine.

I’m not a heads-down, lock-in, flow-state kind of person. I admire people who are. I’ve worked with teammates who show up at 9, plug in their headphones, and hammer through their to-do list like a machine. By 5 pm, they’ve shipped something tangible. Clean. Done.

Me? I’m still at it by 9 pm some days. My day is a web of conversations. Ideas get unpacked in voice notes. Strategies evolve in real-time through “quick” catch-ups.

For years I looked at the clock and told myself I was outworking everyone. Twelve hours versus their eight. Same hourly value, just more of it.

But then I started paying closer attention to what actually shipped.

While I was aligning stakeholders, spitballing ideas, and iterating out loud, my more focused teammates were quietly delivering full features, campaigns, and polished assets. Their 8 hours of deep work out-produced my 12 hours of connected chaos.

That was a moment.

My time wasn’t inherently worth more. In fact, if the only scoreboard was output, I was behind.

But when I stopped measuring in hours and started measuring in impact, I saw the other half of the picture.

Their 8 hours were pure execution, focused, uninterrupted and highly productive. Mine were context gathering, idea shaping, friction spotting, trust building. Their work was visible, code, designs, copy. Mine was mostly invisible:

The scope creep that never happened because I flagged it early.
The smoother handoff because I already aligned the teams behind the scenes.
The clean version-one because the right people had already weighed in.
The department heads collaborating because I made a casual connection over coffee three weeks ago.

Their ability to stay heads-down was often made possible by someone doing the connecting, sensing, and smoothing behind the curtain. And often, that was me.

So yeah—on an individual productivity scoreboard, their 8 crushed my 12. But on a team-impact scoreboard, my 12 helped their 8 land cleanly.

We weren’t competing. We were just playing different positions.

Over the years, I’ve seen enough to recognize the patterns. People tend to fall into rhythm types. And let’s be real—some of these rhythms aren’t just personality quirks. They’re wiring.

A lot of neurodivergent folks—ADHD, autistic, highly sensitive types—find themselves at one end of this rhythm spectrum or another. Some can hyperfocus like it’s a superpower, headphones on, deep in the zone for hours. Others can’t even start until there’s a spark from a conversation or some shared momentum. Some need to talk to think. Others need silence to not explode.

It’s not good or bad, it just is.

There are the Sprinters, the people who start fast, stay locked in, and deliver reliably by EOD. The Night Owls, who light up when the house goes quiet and nobody’s pinging them. The Burst Creators, who work in flashes, hyper-focused for 45 minutes, then need to walk, scroll, reset, and do it again. The Slow Burners, who need time to think and absorb before anything shows up on the page, then drop a perfect take out of nowhere.

And then there are the Social Weavers—people like me—who process by talking, who build ideas in conversation, and whose best work happens between the official moments.

None of these rhythms is better. They’re just different operating systems.

The only time it gets messy is when we start expecting everyone to run the same one.

If you’re wired like me, there are a few things I’ve learned that actually make things smoother. Say it out loud early. Let people know how you operate. Something like, “I tend to check in a lot and think out loud—it’s how I get aligned. If it ever feels like too much, just let me know.”

Give people options. Some folks are fine with an impromptu voice note. Others want a write-up or a scheduled chat. Respect their rhythm and let them choose how they want to engage.

Also try to honor their deep work. If someone’s in Do Not Disturb mode, don’t break it. But ask for time where quick questions are fair game—an open window for check-ins or fast pivots.

Some teams find shared rituals that help balance both styles. A ten-minute daily video stand-up with no agenda, just faces, can be enough to keep things feeling connected. Async video threads, weekly drop-ins, shared notes… little things like that can go a long way.

And it’s not always about preference. it’s about needs. Some people literally need to block everything out to function. Others literally need human contact to kickstart their brain. There’s room for both if we stop pretending everyone’s running the same firmware.

Celebrate the full spectrum. When the Sprinter ships something flawless in an afternoon, call it out. When the Weaver prevents a month-long detour with one hallway chat, celebrate that too.

Because at the end of the day, we’re not assembly lines, we’re a band.

Every team needs rhythm. Somebody’s keeping time, somebody’s playing lead, someone’s anchoring the groove. Sometimes the person setting the pace is in the background, not soloing out front. But when it clicks, everyone hears it.

I’ve stopped trying to justify my 12-hour days. I’ve just accepted that this is the rhythm I run. Not because I’m inefficient—but because I work at the edge of execution and alignment. I create leverage through connection.

And leverage always beats hours.

Find the rhythm that’s native to you.
Find the people who complement it.
Then play.

More From This ADHD Circus Tent

If this story made you nod, laugh, or aggressively point at your screen like “yes, that’s me”—you might like a few of these other brain-scrambled adventures from the creative trenches. Same flavor, same chaos, maybe even a duck metaphor or two.

Focus And Noise Nd Brains
The ND Team That Saved My Agency Bacon Again and Again


FURTHER READING, SOURCES & DEEP DIVES:

1. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10484-023-09618-x
   “Rhythmic Attention and ADHD: A Narrative and Systematic Review” — This article digs into how rhythms of attention (brain wave rhythms, timing fluctuations) differ in people with ADHD, which connects well to your “work‑rhythms” concept. SpringerLink

2. https://caddac.ca/wp-content/uploads/ADHD-in-the-Workplace_Final-EN.pdf
   “ADHD in the Workplace” (CADDAC) — A practical, workplace‑focused guide: how ADHD shows up in employment, what accommodations help, how different rhythms matter in work contexts. CADDAC

3. https://www.mdpi.com/2071-1050/16/15/6594
   “Managing Neurodiversity in Workplaces: A Review and Future Research Agenda” — Expands beyond just ADHD, looking at neurodiversity in general (which you referenced) and the business/organizational implications of different ways of working and thinking.