The 48-Hour Rule

Here’s something I’ve learned the hard way: if a problem spans more than 48 hours, there’s a good chance I won’t solve it. Not because I can’t, or because I don’t want to—but because, by then, the mental thread I was following is gone. The context, the details, the little insights I had? Lost.

I have ADHD, and one of the trickiest parts of that is managing working memory—the brain’s ability to hold and manipulate information in the short term. For neurotypical brains, working memory is like a whiteboard. For me, it’s more like a foggy mirror. Things fade fast.

That’s where the 48-Hour Rule comes in.

What Is the 48-Hour Rule?

It’s a simple principle: if a problem looks like it might take more than 48 hours to solve, I start documenting everything immediately. Not later. Not when it gets complicated. Right away.

Because by the time 48 hours have passed, at least one of these things has happened:

• I’ve forgotten key decisions and discoveries
• I’ve lost momentum or context
• Some other issue has taken priority, hijacking my focus entirely

This last part is huge. With ADHD, attention is driven more by novelty and urgency than by importance. It’s not that I abandon the original problem on purpose—it just gets dethroned by whatever feels loudest or newest.

If I don’t externalize my progress, it’s gone.

How I Document

I treat every session working on a long-running problem like a save point. I don’t wait to see if it will take more than two days—I start building the trail from the first moment I sense it might.

My documentation usually includes:

• A running note file with timestamped thoughts
• Screenshots of key moments, messages, or errors
• Links to documentation, examples, or forum threads
• A list of steps I’ve taken and what happened
• Dead ends, guesses, and random “what-ifs”

But the most important part comes at the end of each session: I produce two outputs.

What I Know So Far

This is a bullet-point list of facts—things I’ve confirmed or observed directly.

This list gives me solid ground to stand on when I return. It helps prevent me from chasing ghosts or re-testing things I already know.

What I Think So Far

This is my current set of working theories, assumptions, or hunches.

This is more speculative, but no less important. It lets me pick up the thread of reasoning I was following. Even if the theory turns out to be wrong, it saves me the effort of remembering why I was testing what I was testing.

Why 48 Hours?

It’s not a hard cutoff, but for me, 48 hours tends to be the tipping point—where a problem either stays accessible in my brain or starts to dissolve into mental static. Once I cross that threshold, it becomes significantly harder to re-engage with the problem, even if I was making good progress earlier.

That collapse of context happens because of a few core ADHD-related tendencies:

Working Memory Deficits

Working memory is basically your brain’s mental scratchpad—the ability to hold onto bits of information while doing something with them. People with ADHD often have a reduced working memory capacity, which means I can only keep a few “mental tabs” open at a time before older ones get pushed out.

So if I’m working on a complex problem that requires juggling five variables, comparing scenarios, and remembering what happened in Step 3… that’s already at or beyond my limit. And if I pause for a day or two, those variables are gone. I’m not just picking up where I left off—I’m re-learning everything from the beginning.

Time Blindness

With ADHD, my sense of time is slippery. I often experience what’s called temporal myopia—the tendency to focus on what’s happening right now at the expense of things in the past or future. So I might feel like I worked on something “just yesterday,” when in reality it’s been four days. Or a week.

This creates a false sense of continuity. I think I should remember where I left off, but I don’t—because way more time has passed than I realized. And without reliable timestamps or session notes, that temporal gap makes it even harder to jump back in.

Object Permanence (Yes, Adults Have It Too)

For people with ADHD, object permanence doesn’t just apply to physical things. It applies to mental objects too—like tasks, goals, or in-progress ideas. If I can’t see a problem—if it’s not in my open tabs, in my notes, or actively pinging my attention—it often vanishes from my mental landscape entirely.

Out of sight, out of mind is very real. It’s not that I don’t care about the task. It’s that it slips below the surface of awareness and might not resurface for days, or until something jogs my memory.

This is why I try to leave highly visible “hooks” for myself: sticky notes, browser tabs, recurring reminders, or pinned files. Anything that gives the problem a continued presence in my space.

Executive Dysfunction

Executive functions are the brain’s management system—they help you plan, prioritize, initiate, and shift between tasks. With ADHD, these functions are often impaired, which makes restarting an old task feel significantly harder than simply continuing one you’re already in the flow of.

Re-engaging with a half-solved problem requires a cold boot of sorts. I have to reload the context, rebuild the mental model, and overcome the inertia of not knowing exactly where to start. That’s cognitively expensive.

Even if I have the energy and motivation, the friction of rebooting is real. It’s not laziness—it’s the invisible weight of context switching when the “save file” from my last session has been lost.

Taken together, these traits mean that the longer a problem is open, the more likely it is to evaporate from my mental landscape. Which is why the 48-Hour Rule isn’t just helpful—it’s necessary.

By treating every early session as a “last session,” I can future-proof my work against the inevitable attention shifts and memory gaps that come with ADHD.

So even if I was making good progress, I can easily hit a wall—just because I didn’t leave myself enough breadcrumbs.

This Isn’t About Productivity

The 48-Hour Rule isn’t a hack to make me work faster. It’s a system I’ve built to work with the brain I’ve got. ADHD doesn’t mean I’m broken—it just means I need different tools.

When I follow this rule, I can stretch a fragile thread of insight across time. I can take a problem that would otherwise vanish in the fog and give myself a real chance to solve it—even if it takes days or weeks.

If you’ve got ADHD—or even just a brain that hates open-ended problems—try this. Start documenting earlier than you think you need to. After each session, write down:

• What I know so far
• What I think so far

Then walk away. Come back when you’re ready. And thank your past self for leaving the lights on.

Want to hear how I structure my notes or what tools I use to keep track of it all? Let me know—happy to share.