This is probably overdue, but here we are.

The thing I’ve been indirectly writing about for the last few weeks has a name. It’s called CoffeeBreak. It’s an AI teammate designed to support the software development lifecycle, end to end.

I haven’t named it until now on purpose. Not because it’s a secret, but because the name isn’t the important part yet. The work is.

Over the years, I’ve learned that most software failures don’t come from ambition. They come from shipping something that almost works and asking users to fill in the gaps.

I’ve been feeling pressure lately. Not from investors or timelines, but from peers. People asking when they can try CoffeeBreak. That’s a good problem to have, and it’s also a dangerous one.

Right now, CoffeeBreak doesn’t need to do everything. It needs to do one thing, really well, end to end, without excuses.

I don’t want to ask people to imagine how it will work. I don’t want to say “ignore that part for now.” I don’t want users doing invisible work to make the system feel useful. And I certainly don’t want people to feel, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain” vibes.

I’ve shipped software fast before. I’ve cut corners before. And I’ve paid for it later with trust, rework, and long nights debugging or explaining why something behaved the way it did.

This time, I’m waiting until one workflow can stand on its own.
One task. One path. One outcome that doesn’t require hand-holding.

I’m close. I can see the shape of it now. But “close” isn’t the same as “ready,” and experience has taught me not to confuse the two.

When CoffeeBreak is ready to share, it won’t need caveats.
That’s the bar I’m holding myself to.