Locked In

“If I had a nickel for every time I heard someone say, ‘It’s not what you know, it’s who you know’… I’d have enough to reconsider starting a company.”

Just kidding, thats’d be a whopping $35 in my bank account.

Now please, I beg you, give me a second chance at explaining why I started you off with a shitty joke.

I’m coming up on two years in San Francisco.

And around here, people glorify “locking in.”

In SF terms, that means cutting off all social life, eating like trash, barely sleeping, and tweeting about it like you’re the second coming of Zuck.

Like this poor guy:

You know the type.

Socially awkward software engineers backed by a hot VC fund. Dropped $40k on a launch video, sold $750 worth of pre-orders to their friends' friends, now trying to convince 19-year-olds from Australia to be indentured servants at their company (hypothetically, of course).

Anyways… that’s not me.

I tweeted that back in January after leaving my job at Dexcom. I told the world I was gonna “lock in.” As I transition off Plunge Party, I felt myself falling into that same trap again.

Over the past two months, I’ve been heads-down, trying to “growth hack distribution.”

Yes. It’s working. But I had to ask: Why am I paying SF rent if I never leave the house or the office?

This past Friday, I went to a friend’s housewarming.

And I was reminded: there are two types of founders in SF.

1. The locked in “autistic” software engineers whose entire personality is tied to work and who they raised money from and the first question out of their mouth to fill 2 seconds of silence is “so what are you building?”

2. The socially outgoing ones who play hard, work hard, and kick you out of their house if you try to talk about work.

My past Friday night was full of the “type 2s”. Zero work talk. No one cared “who was who” or what you were building.

That is where I realized I do best.

I thrive with the psychotic monsters who are raw-dogging a triathlon and buying matching race tanks for their roommates.

Or bonding with the former CTO of a huge health company. Not over our careers, but because I showed him an emoji sticker that would get me canceled, and he told me about driving his Alzheimer’s-ridden grandfather down the PCH in a Lambo just to see him smile.

To be clear. I still “lock in.” I pull late nights. I work weekends. But not to impress anyone.

It’s so I can show up in rooms like that and be a good hang with incredible people, doing incredible things, who don’t need to talk about it 24/7.

Because it’s not about what you know. It’s not even really about who you know.

It’s about making real friends, bringing good energy, and helping each other win. Not because it benefits you, but because you just want to see your friends win.

Work hard, but don’t forget why you’re working. The people on the journey matter more than the pitches and products.

You’re Awesome,

Jared

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Things Worth Clicking

A few gems I found on the internet this week - no digging required

• Throwback to when Palmer Lucky did not hold back on speaking his mind on Jason Calacanis… in public.

• How to be socially normal. From my friend Luke

  My six stages of learning to be a socially normal person

  a slow progression

  substack.com/home/post/p-173991096

  

  Thomas Jefferson (Part 1)

  How to Take Over the World · Episode

  open.spotify.com/episode/4Bhdj45y3DRi7VCtX9coIG?si=0329eb38aab94994

  

I Dig So You Don’t Have To

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