My big project is not done. It’s not ready. I know I have a reason for the delay, but I don’t yet know what it is. I am not overly concerned about it.

With what I do, this planning thing, I can’t rush it. If it’s not ready, it’s not ready. There are many moving parts, there are many factors to consider, and everything has to be perfectly aligned, perfectly balanced, or else it all falls apart. If I submit something less than perfect, it does not work.

They are willing to wait for the perfect plan.

There is a lot of money at risk.

Yesterday, BP teased me for being incredibly lazy. He knows it is not laziness that has prevented me from finishing . . . it’s not done.

There is something missing, but I am not completely certain yet what it is. The framework is there, most of the pieces are in place, and yet there is something important missing of which I am not yet aware. It will come to me, most likely, when I am driving or exercising or cooking or doing something mindless. That’s when the plans come together.

Like BFD, most of what I do is in preparation. I spend most of my time digesting random facts and knowledge. I talk to people. I listen carefully. I read. Then, at unusual moments, solutions to complex problems appear and I build a plan. That’s really all I do.

As I was typing this, I just figured out a new element that had been missing from the new project. It’s something from completely out of left field. It’s not a part of the plan, but it’s good. It can work and it will get people excited. It’s a twist. It is a part of the perfect plan.

An hour ago, I had no idea this element existed. Q called me to discuss something he was working on and I thought, well, that won’t work for BFD, which had been Q’s suggestion. (Everyone wants to be involved with BFD, it seems.) Still, I thought it could work for a different thing that has been kicking around, so I asked him to send me backup documentation to ponder.

Then, as I typed this about why I can’t finish, which has something to do with the fact I can’t workout because I am afraid I will keep reinjuring my foot, it flowed into place. This one little element could lift the plan to sublime. It sings.

I am alone, in bed suffering from a terrible period thanks to a lack of exercise, and I lifted my arms in triumph and yelled “yes!” to the empty room.

I am in the business of making connections. When I do it well, I assemble things that are not readily apparent into a coherent logic that becomes so obvious that you cannot believe you did not think of it yourself. You understand within two sentences the plan. It becomes so obvious that you then believe you thought of it and I just wrote it up. Such is the “glamour” of my life.

It’s how my brain works — this assembling of random facts and knowledge, the flotsam and jetsam — and then solutions appear.

That is really how I describe it. I have spent hundreds of hours wandering around in exercise or sitting at gates awaiting flights hither and yon, figuring things out after picking up some random fact from an entertainment weekly, or a throwaway line in a conversation with a friend, like today or zoning out during a physical challenge. Random things shift into place and solutions appear.

So I have not yet finished the new project, my project, because there are connections I have not yet made. But, thanks to this new element, it sings.

It might be perfect. It might work.

Now, it’s time to finish . . .