You Are Not Starting a Business This Quarter
Starting from burnout means your binding constraint is energy, not time. Sequence the first ninety days by what each task costs you while depleted.
Justin Allan, NP4 min read

You are not going to start a business in the next ninety days, and I want you to stop using that phrase.
Starting a business is a large, undefined, slightly heroic thing, and if you are reading this from where I think you are, large undefined heroic things are exactly what you have no capacity for. That framing is a good part of why the last two attempts collapsed inside a month.
What you are going to do is much smaller, and it will be over by the end of the quarter, and it will work.
Your constraint is not time
Everybody writing about side businesses assumes the reader is short of hours. You probably are, but that is not what stopped you.
What stopped you is that the hours you have are the wrong kind. The two hours after work exist, on paper. They are also the two hours in which you have nothing left, and a task requiring judgment or creation will not get done in them no matter how firmly it is scheduled.
So stop budgeting time and start budgeting energy. It is a different unit, it is more scarce than time, and it does not replenish on a schedule you control.
Sort the work by what it costs you
Here is the practical consequence, and it is the whole method.
Take everything that has to happen in the first stretch and split it into two piles.
Cheap when empty. Reading the forums and groups your profession uses. Writing down what people complain about. Listing problems. Going through a competitor's course. Making the list of what you have taught colleagues informally. Reading your own sent messages for repeated questions. Almost all of the finding-out is in this pile, and almost none of it requires you to be at your best.
Expensive. Deciding the value proposition. Structuring the course. Recording. Writing the sales page. Anything where you have to produce rather than absorb.
Now stop pretending you will do these in logical order. Do the cheap pile in the depleted hours — Tuesday evening, ten minutes in a car park, waiting for something. Save the expensive pile for the two or three windows a fortnight when you actually have something, and protect those windows like they are clinical time.
Two good hours on a Sunday beat six hours you scheduled and did not use.
What ninety days is enough for
Be concrete about the target, because vagueness is expensive when you are tired.
By the end of the quarter you should have: one problem you have chosen and can state in a sentence, a specific kind of person you are addressing, somewhere between eight and a dozen pieces of free material published, and a decision about what the course is.
Not a finished course. Not revenue. Not an audience worth the name.
If you get further, good. But that list is achievable at low energy, and every item on it is permanent — none of it has to be redone later, and all of it makes the next quarter cheaper.
Do not quit anything
You keep the job. This is not a bravery test and the model does not require one — the point at which you leave is the point at which the business can replace the income, and that is a long way from here.
There is a version of this where somebody reads an article like this, hands in notice, and puts themselves under financial pressure while already depleted. That is the single worst thing you could do with the next ninety days.
The part with no soft version
For a while this makes you more tired, not less.
You are adding work to a life that is already producing burnout, and the payoff is months out. Expect slow stretches. Expect things not to land. Some of what you publish will get no response at all, and that is normal rather than diagnostic.
If you need permission for something: you are allowed to go slower than the plan. What you are not allowed to do is stop publishing altogether, because starting again from cold costs far more than continuing badly.
What the ninety days actually buys
Not money. Almost certainly not money.
What burnout takes is the sense that you can initiate anything — that anything you do could change the shape of the next ten years rather than just getting you through the week. That is the actual injury, and reduced hours does nothing for it, which is why cutting back never made you feel better.
Ninety days from now you will have published a dozen things under your own name, in your own profession, that did not exist before and that nobody asked you for. Some professional you have never met will have replied to one of them.
That is a small thing and it is the correct first thing, because it is evidence, and evidence is what you are short of.
The business comes later. This quarter is about proving to yourself that you can still start something, which is a much smaller claim than the one you have been failing to make.