There’s a moment every computer person eventually has, usually more than once, where something gets deleted that can’t come back. Working in the command line for years, I’ve been there. It teaches you, more than anything, that the things you can’t take back deserve a different kind of attention than the things you can.

At the moment, my life is in disarray. A record Arctic cold snap has turned normal routines upside down. The water to the upstairs is shut off. We’re going crazy each night to keep the remaining pipes from freezing. An ice dam is causing water to leak into our house. I’ve injured my knee, not through anything cool like snowboarding, but because the cat slept on it wrong. The new web development class I’ve spent months preparing for has turned into a dumpster fire because of incorrect assumptions, snow days, and a fractured schedule.

On December 31st, I finished a ten-year daily journal. Every single day for a decade, I wrote an entry. The format was simple: one page per day, laid out so that when I flipped back through, I could see exactly where I was on any given date ten years prior. It was a satisfying thing to complete.

For over a year now, my favorite large language model has been Anthropic’s Claude. I use it in two ways: the way that’s most familiar to people, chatting in my web browser or their desktop app, and a specialized, programming-focused interface called Claude Code that I run directly in a folder on my computer. Claude Code has actually become my favorite way to access Anthropic models, so when I saw their announcement about Cowork, which is essentially a version of Claude Code that isn’t oriented toward building software, I got genuinely excited. That’s exactly how I’ve been using it myself.