I have a graveyard of half-built side projects. A habit tracker, a recipe app, a browser extension that counted my open tabs. Each one ate a weekend and paid me nothing. Not because the ideas were bad. Because I never asked what the weekend was worth before I spent it.

So I built a spreadsheet that asks. It is small, it is blunt, and it has killed more of my ideas than any lack of motivation ever did. Here is exactly how it works.

The sheet

Six rows. Nothing fancy. Column A is the label, column B is the number.

A B
1 Hours it will take 14
2 What my hour is worth ($) 18
3 Cash costs (domain, hosting) ($) 9
4 Total cost =B1*B2+B3
5 Price per sale ($) 12
6 Sales I honestly expect, month 1 6
7 Month-1 revenue =B5*B6
8 Month-1 profit =B7-B4
9 Sales needed to break even =B4/B5

That is the whole template. Copy it, change the numbers, read row 8. Row 8 is the only row with an opinion.

A real example

Last month I wanted to build a small invoicing template pack for freelancers. Two evenings and a Sunday morning, 14 hours all in. My hour is worth $18 to me, because that is roughly what I can earn doing freelance work instead. Domain and hosting for the month: $9. I already owned the tools, so tools cost zero.

Total cost: 14 x 18 + 9 = $261. That is what the weekend actually costs, once you count your own time as real money. Most people leave row 2 out and then wonder why the project "only" cost $9.

Price: $12 a pack. Sales I honestly expected in month one: 6. Not 60. Six, because I had no audience and no ads, just a few posts and a link.

Month-1 revenue: 6 x 12 = $72. Month-1 profit: 72 - 261 = -$189. Break-even: 261 / 12 = 21.8, so 22 sales.

The spreadsheet said no. It said: this only makes sense if you honestly believe 22 people will buy it, and the first month will still lose $189. I built it anyway, because I wanted the thing to exist, but I built it knowing the truth. A weekend spent knowingly is a hobby. A weekend spent on a fantasy is a disappointment with extra steps.

The two numbers people lie about

Hours: I used to write 6 when I meant 14. I forgot testing, forgot the landing page, forgot the part where the payment button doesn't work on mobile. Now I take my first guess and double it.

Expected sales: this one is worse, because hope feels like a plan. "If just 1% of my followers buy it" is not a forecast, it is a daydream with arithmetic. I now force myself to write the number I would bet $50 on. If I wouldn't bet on 60 sales, I don't get to type 60.

There is a third lie hiding in row 2. People set their hour to zero because the time is "free" on a weekend. It is not free. It is the same hour you could spend resting, or learning, or earning. Zero is the choice that makes every bad idea look profitable. Put a real number in. Even $10 changes the answer.

How I actually use it

I run the sheet before I write a single line of code. If row 8 is positive, I build it. If row 8 is negative but small, I ask one question: is there a second month? A template pack can sell 6 copies in month one and 6 more in month two, and suddenly the math moves. If it is still negative after three months of honest numbers, I kill it and feel good about the kill, because the spreadsheet did in two minutes what a wasted weekend would have done in fourteen hours.

Build the sheet. Fill it in honestly. Let row 8 tell you no sometimes. A no from a spreadsheet on Friday night is a gift. It is the cheapest no you will ever get.