There is a very specific kind of desperation that hits in the school pickup line.
The car is idling. A podcast is half playing. Your brain is cycling through open loops: the email you forgot, the side project you miss, the laundry you definitely did not switch to the dryer.
You check the time. Nine minutes until the bell.
Nine minutes feels like nothing. Not enough to do “real” work, just enough to doom scroll and feel bad about it. For a long time, those little scraps of time were where my projects went to die. Too small to matter, too easy to waste.
Then I started treating those scraps like building blocks, and I gave an AI the extremely glamorous job of “making my nine minutes count.”
That is the whole idea of the 10 Minute Builder. Not hustle culture. Not “wake up at 4 a.m. and grind.” Just: use the tiny windows you already have, and let an AI assistant do enough of the heavy lifting that those windows actually move your project forward.
Why 10 minutes matters more than you think
Real numbers first.
If you are a parent, one study says you get about half an hour of true “me time” a day, and even that is usually chopped into pieces. If you run a small business, surveys say you lose more than an hour a day to busywork and interruptions.
So most of us do not have three golden hours to “go deep” on a side project. We have:
7 minutes before the next meeting
10 minutes while dinner simmers
12 minutes in the car before pickup
5 minutes when the kids finally stop asking for water
Those pockets feel useless because of context switching. Every time you stop and restart a task, there is a mental “boot up” cost. It can take 20 minutes just to remember where you left off. If all you have is 10, you never even get past the loading screen.
This is where AI gets interesting, not as magic, but as a very patient continuity partner. It can remember the thread of your project when your brain is fried. It can turn “I only have 10 minutes” into “I can still do one real thing.”
What actually fits inside 10 minutes

Let’s make this concrete. Here is the kind of work that fits shockingly well into a 10 minute window when you have an AI assistant nearby.
1. Micro planning instead of vague guilt
Ask: “Here is my project, here is what I finished last time, give me 3 tiny tasks I could do in 10 minutes tonight.”
In one quick session, you walk away with a checklist instead of a cloud of dread.
2. Drafts you can fix later
Blog intro, product description, email reply, lesson outline.
You feed the AI a few bullets and constraints, it hands you a rough draft. Future you edits when there is more time. Present you gets to say, “The hard part is started.”
3. Brainstorms on tap
“Give me 10 subject line ideas.”
“List 5 Instagram post ideas for my pottery side hustle.”
“Suggest 3 ways to repackage my existing offer.”
It is like having a permanently caffeinated brainstorming buddy who never says “idk.”
4. Life admin that protects your project time
Summarize long emails.
Draft polite “no” replies.
Turn messy meeting notes into a to do list.
Every small chunk of admin you compress with AI can be reinvested into the projects you keep postponing.
None of this requires code. None of it requires a perfect prompt. It is just using the AI as a fast first pass machine so your 10 minutes actually produce something you can build on.
Let the AI remember, not your tired brain

The biggest enemy of the 10 Minute Builder is context loss.
If you only touch your project in tiny slices, your brain has to reload the whole situation every time. That is like opening a giant Figma file on a 5 year old laptop. The fan screams. Everything lags. You give up.
Here is the move that changed things for me: I stopped trying to remember everything myself. I made the AI my external brain.
Practically, that looks like:
Keeping one long running chat just for a single project
Starting each session with “Remind me where we left off last time”
Ending each session with “Summarize what we did today, and list 3 next steps that can be done in 10 minutes”
Now, when I open that chat in the pickup line, I do not spend 10 minutes re reading my own notes. The AI gives me a little recap and a tiny task. Most days, that recap is the difference between doing something and sighing and letting the doom scroll start.
This is task chunking in the wild. You are not trying to “launch the business” in 10 minutes. You are trying to write one product blurb. Draft one FAQ. Outline one lesson. And you are letting the AI both slice the work and remember the slices for you.
A tiny daily system for the 10 Minute Builder
Here is a simple loop you can steal and modify. Think of it as flossing for your project.
1. Pick one project
Not five. One. The course. The Etsy shop. The newsletter. The app. The thing you will be glad you nudged forward 1% today.
2. Start a dedicated AI thread for it
Title it with the project name. In the first message, brain dump where you are, what you want, and how much time you realistically have per day.
3. Ask for micro tasks
Something like: “Given this project and my time limits, list 10 tasks that take 10 minutes or less. Sort them from easiest to hardest.”
Star the ones that feel doable when you are half asleep. Those are your go to moves for chaotic days.
4. Run a 10 minute session
When a tiny window opens:
Open that thread
Ask, “Remind me what we did last time and suggest one 10 minute task from the list”
Do it. Sloppily is fine. Drafty is fine. The point is motion.
5. Leave breadcrumbs
Before you close, tell the AI, “Summarize what we just did in 3 bullets and propose the next 3 micro tasks.” That becomes tomorrow you’s on ramp.
If you manage this loop three or four times a week, you are not just “using AI.” You are building a rhythm. You are teaching your brain that your project is not dead. It is happening, slowly, in the seams of your day.
The honest friction (and how to work around it)

A few real talk objections I hear in my own head:
“The AI’s writing is mid.”
Correct. Raw AI output is often bland. That is fine. Let it be your 80 percent draft machine. Use your precious human minutes to tweak tone, add stories, double check facts. Editing something boring is faster than birthing something from a blank page.
“I do not have time to learn prompts.”
Then do not. Start stupid simple. Think: “Talk to it like a slightly confused intern.”
“I run a dog grooming business. I have 10 minutes. Give me 3 Instagram caption ideas.”
“Here is a messy paragraph. Clean it up without making it formal.”
Fancy prompt engineering can come later, or never. You can get plenty of value from basic sentences.
“It will not sound like me.”
Not if you never touch it, yeah. Two fixes:
Paste a sample of your past writing and tell it, “Match this style.”
Make it do the structure and boring bits, then add one personal line or weird metaphor to each piece.
Your voice is the seasoning. The AI cooks the plain rice.
“Is it safe to paste my whole client doc in here?”
Maybe not. Use placeholders where it feels sketchy. “Client A,” “$X revenue,” “[sensitive details removed].” You can still get useful drafts without feeding it real names, numbers, or secrets. For truly sensitive stuff, skip AI or use tools from providers you trust with better privacy guarantees.
Try a one week 10 minute experiment
If this all feels abstract, here is a concrete challenge.
Next week, pick one project and one AI tool you already have access to. No new subscriptions. No fancy setup.
Your only rule: five days, 10 minutes per day with that AI, always in service of that one project.
Day by day, it might look like:
Day 1: Define the project and ask for a list of micro tasks
Day 2: Draft one small piece (email, blurb, outline)
Day 3: Have it turn something messy you already wrote into a cleaner version
Day 4: Ask it to summarize everything so far and suggest improvements
Day 5: Use it to plan the next week of micro tasks
Track how many minutes you actually spend. Track what exists at the end of the week that did not exist on Monday. A draft page? A clearer offer? A list of ideas you can grab on tired nights?
It will not feel dramatic, but that is kind of the point. No montage. No glow up. Just a quiet, stubborn refusal to let your project flatline.
Some nights, my 10 minutes feel like lighting a tiny candle in a messy, loud house. Kids arguing, dishes in the sink, Slack still pinging. But that candle is mine.
The AI is not the hero of that story. It is just the lighter that makes it easier to get the flame going before someone needs a snack.
If you have been waiting for a three hour block to magically appear, consider this your permission slip: stop waiting. Grab your next 10 minute window. Open your AI of choice. Ask it to help you move one inch forward.
You do not have to build the whole thing today.
You just have to keep it alive.

