I Don’t Believe in Luck. I Believe in Being So Loud They Let You Win Out of Exhaustion

I’ve never been the smartest guy in the room — but I am definitely the one who talks first, fastest, and most confidently about things I just Googled in the hallway.

People think I’m lucky.

I’m not.

I’m just too annoying to ignore and too committed to quit.

At this point, my whole career is built on strategic overconfidence and calendar persistence.

I once got promoted because I added myself to a meeting, brought muffins, and said “synergy” before anyone else could define it. I don’t know what my job is — but neither does my boss, and that’s balance.

My greatest professional skill?
Staying just competent enough not to get fired, but loud enough to seem valuable.

I’m the guy who nods aggressively in Zoom calls so people think I have opinions. I write emails in bullet points because they look like decisions. I say things like “we’ll circle back” even though I have no intention of ever completing the circle.

Success, for me, is momentum plus denial.
I say “absolutely” to everything.
Need someone to lead the metrics sync? Absolutely.
Run point on the ops funnel? Absolutely.
Define either of those terms? Not a clue. But I have strong eye contact and a Google tab open.

I don’t believe in luck.
I believe in being so energetically present that people assume you’re going somewhere important.

Even if you’re really just lost in a well-lit building with a clipboard and a dream.