The Price of Free Pizza

I was texting with my friend Roberto Che Espinoza, PhD this morning about when my son Felix was little. Every school day looked the same: the bus is coming, his packed lunch is still on the counter, and Felix is leisurely tying one shoe like he’s on a hammock in Bali.

The kid was born without a hurry. No backpack-grabbing cortisol surge. No panic-dash nervous system spike. He just… floated. Always.

Fast forward to the clients I’m working with these days, and HURRY is professional currency. One of my clients was talking about a brutal shift where her boss ordered pizzas for the team. On the surface, it looked generous. But really? It was just fuel. A way to keep exhausted humans upright and grinding.

Not presence. Not nourishment. Just grease-stained cardboard in the break room so people can chew faster, swallow stress, and get shoved right back to work.

And yes, pizza is delicious AF. But when “treats” are really bribes to keep us producing, we turn into agreeable minions. Smiling, nodding, grabbing a slice — while our bodies ache for something deeper.

Why It Feels So Heavy

If you’ve ever felt like success tastes hollow, this is why:

• Your nervous system never comes down. Cortisol floods your body until calm feels unsafe.
• Your brain adapts to urgency. Neuroplasticity locks in survival mode, rewiring you to crave chaos because it feels “normal.”
• Even food gets hijacked. Meals stop being human rituals of pause and connection. They become pit stops. Fuel stations. Quick bites so you can get back to proving yourself.

That heaviness you carry? That hollow success? It isn’t weakness. It’s the cost of a nervous system that’s been treated like a machine.

What You Actually Deserve

You deserve to heal without extra cheese. You deserve a nervous system that can exhale. You deserve success that doesn’t require swallowing stress on command.

Because life isn’t supposed to feel like a race where the only “reward” is free pizza for running yourself ragged.

A Real Invitation

No matter what toppings you pile on your pie, what we DON'T need, is pizza as a stand-in for healing. We need nervous systems that remember what it feels like to be alive.

It's why I always keep space on my calendar for QUICK CONNECT CALLS. Not selling anything. No RVUs. No KPIs. Just a short pause to feel seen, celebrated, and maybe taste a new slice of possibility. 

Part of my business model is simple: help one person a day. No strings attached. If today’s the day you need it, you can book here: tidycal.com/bombdiggity. If not, it’ll be waiting when you do.

And hey — BYOPS (bring your own pizza slice).