Until recently, I wore my chaos like a crown.

I saw it as a symbol of ambition, of creativity, of entrepreneurial drive. I prided myself on the constant brainstorms, the late-night bursts of inspiration, the notebooks scattered across my workspace—each filled with plans for five or six different ventures, some fresh, others long-forgotten. That was how I operated. It felt electric. Productive. Alive.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

I genuinely believed I was wired to move fast, to chase opportunity, to stay endlessly “on.” But what I failed to see—what I refused to see—was that I wasn’t actually building momentum. I was spinning in circles. Fast, noisy, exhausting circles.

The realization didn’t come in a flash. It crept in quietly, disguised as a simple conversation with someone from my trusted circle of advisors—what I like to call my personal board of directors.

It wasn’t criticism. It wasn’t judgment. It was just an honest observation:
“You know, you’re always three steps into the next thing before you finish the one in front of you.”

At first, I brushed it off, like I’d done so many times before.

But later that evening, I remembered a moment from a few years back—my daughter, Jennifer, had said something nearly identical. I laughed it off at the time, chalking it up to the eccentricities of being a “creative entrepreneur.” She didn’t press. And I didn’t reflect.

But this time, hearing it again—and truly feeling the weight of it—I was ready to listen.

Sorry, Jennifer. I should have listened then.

Because deep down, I knew it was true.

What I’d been calling energy and drive was often just noise. What I thought was ambition was, more often than not, avoidance. I wasn’t leaving projects because I’d outgrown them or pivoted strategically. I was abandoning them because I got bored. Or overwhelmed. Or distracted by something shiny and new.

And there was also this essential, often-ignored piece: the business itself. You know, the part that actually keeps everything running. The revenue-generating, system-building, operational backbone that turns passion into something sustainable. I was so deep in the clouds of ideation that I wasn’t anchoring myself to what truly mattered.

That’s when I stumbled on the term “Entrepreneurial ADD.” Not a clinical diagnosis, but a painfully accurate one.

The description was like reading my own biography—hyper-creative, constantly chasing stimulation, addicted to the rush of starting but rarely following through. Always in the launch phase. Rarely in the finish line photo.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

I realized I’d been navigating a storm for years without knowing I was even in one. And worse—I had been calling it progress.

A Clearer Kind of Clarity

This wasn’t just about being busy or scattered. It was deeper. I was mistaking motion for progress. I was confusing passion with purpose. I was getting high on new beginnings and resisting the slow, unglamorous work of follow-through.

Even though it’s just me and my business partner, Erik, managing the business day-to-day—and me personally with a small, tight circle of trusted confidants—the impact was undeniable.

I’d pitch a new idea with fire in my eyes. We’d dive in, maybe even make some early traction. Then just as quickly, I’d shift gears. Not because the idea was bad—but because something newer, louder, or more exciting came along.

We weren’t short on opportunities. We were drowning in them—most of them the wrong ones, or at the very least, the wrong ones for right now. We were working hard, under constant pressure, but not really moving forward.

Once I saw the pattern, I couldn’t unsee it. And that shift—acknowledging it for what it was—began to change everything.

What I’m Doing Differently Now

This isn’t one of those before-and-after stories where everything magically falls into place. There’s no secret hack or single breakthrough moment. What’s happening is slow, steady, deliberate recalibration—retraining how I create, focus, and finish.

Here’s what’s working for me:

1. Naming the Pattern Out Loud
There’s tremendous power in calling something by its name. When I said it out loud—“I think I’ve been dealing with Entrepreneurial ADD”—something shifted. I talked about it with the advisors I trust most. No one was surprised. They saw it before I did. But naming it took away the shame and created space for solutions.

2. The 3-Day Rule
Now, when a new idea pops into my head (which still happens often), I write it down and let it sit for 72 hours. No action. No obsessing. Just time. If it still feels worthy after three days, I’ll bring it forward. But most of the time, the urgency fades—and I can let it go without guilt.

3. One Page, One Focus
I’ve replaced stacks of notebooks and endless folders with a single piece of paper—what I call my focus sheet. No more than three core initiatives per quarter. There a few “doodle” pages attached where I’m drawing lines and connecting dots to visualize organization. That’s it. It’s all on my desk, in plain sight. These are the priorities. No pivots, no new lanes, just clarity. Truth be told, a journal still sits on my desk, albeit for notes, reminders, etc. for daily operations.

4. Leaning on My Inner Circle for Accountability
It’s still just Erik and me leading the charge, supported by a small team—but I’ve invited a handful of close collaborators and advisors into my personal fold to keep me grounded. They don’t manage me—they mirror me. They help me see the things I sometimes can’t, and they ask the questions that make me pause before I pivot. They also answer my questions without telling me what I want to hear.

5. Redefining What It Means to Be “Creative”
For years, I believed creativity was all about the spark—the beginning. But now I see creativity in the editing. In the repetition. In the systems. In the discipline to finish. Creativity isn’t just invention. It’s endurance. It reminds me that it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

6. Making Peace With Boredom
This was tough. I had to learn that boredom—or more accurately, frustration—isn’t something to avoid. It’s part of the process. It’s where real work lives. Where grit is built. Distraction was the real enemy. Boredom just pointed me back to the work.

7. Designing Boundaries Around My Brain
I used to think structure would kill my creativity. But I’ve learned that without boundaries, my creativity burns itself out. Now I use time-blocking, weekly priorities, and digital limits. I give my brain room to wander—but not to run wild.

What’s Changed—and What’s Still Changing

The shift hasn’t been dramatic, but it’s been undeniable.

I’m finishing more. I feel more present in conversations. My thoughts are clearer. My decisions more grounded. Erik and I are having more meaningful conversations—not reactive, but strategic. Rooted in intention, not impulse.

And the best part?

The ideas haven’t stopped coming. If anything, they’re better—more refined, more aligned, more executable. I no longer feel the need to chase every opportunity. I’m learning to choose the right ones. And when I do? I follow through.

A Work in Progress

Entrepreneurial ADD didn’t show up yesterday. It’s been with me for years. So I know this isn’t a one-and-done journey. I’ll still get distracted. I’ll still want to chase something shiny. But now, I see the signs. I have tools. I have support.

And most importantly—I’ve developed a new respect for commitment. The kind that doesn’t make headlines. The kind that builds legacies.

So that’s where I am now. Not at the finish line. Not back at the starting gate. Somewhere in the middle. Between realization and refinement. Between chaos and clarity. Between dreaming and doing.

Finally Building What Matters

I’m building something now that’s been on and off the proverbial drawing board for more than a decade. A project that’s the culmination of everything—experience, failure, curiosity, resilience. It’s still complex (because meaningful things always are), but it’s becoming streamlined, focused, and real.

And for once, I’m not launching it in haste. Not rushing to push it out half-baked. I’m letting it come together when it’s truly ready.

Yes—this time, I’m building something that will last. A sum of all the parts—entrepreneurship, franchising, restaurants, small business, and my love for helping others succeed. And in the not-so-distant future, when it finally introduced, I have a feeling some of you will see it and nod in agreement, acknowledgment…

Not just starting—finishing.
Not just dreaming—doing.

Not just making it happen—making it count.

About the Author

Paul Segreto brings over four decades of hands-on experience in franchising, restaurants, and small business development. A passionate advocate for entrepreneurship, Paul has helped countless individuals turn their visions into thriving ventures. Ready to take your next step in business or looking for expert insight to overcome today’s challenges? Reach out directly to Paul at paul@acceler8success.com — your path to success may be one conversation away.