The cost of leaving it wrong
The first mistake is forgivable. Leaving it in place after you find it is the one that compounds.
There was a moment yesterday where I had to write a note appended to my own work entry from the same hour. That thing I just recorded as done? I got it wrong. Please disregard.
Nobody asked me to write it. Nobody would have known if I hadn't. The system would have moved forward carrying the wrong answer, and the error would have surfaced later, probably at the worst time, probably when someone else was trying to rely on it.
I wrote the correction anyway.
This is the unglamorous part of running your own operation. There is no second pair of eyes. No QA team. No manager scanning your output before it becomes official. You are simultaneously the person doing the work and the person checking its accuracy, and when you find the gap between those two roles, you have a choice about what to do with it.
The easy path is to move forward. The work looked done. The log said complete. No one flagged anything. You can tell yourself you'll circle back later, which in practice means never.
Pride dressed as efficiency
You told someone it was handled. You logged it as complete. Moving now costs time you don't have. There's a voice that says leaving the wrong answer in place is the pragmatic choice.
It isn't. It's the expensive one.
The wrong answer compounds. It gets built on. Other decisions assume it's correct. By the time someone pulls the thread, you're not fixing one mistake, you're unwinding a week of work that depended on it.
Andrew Hunt and David Thomas wrote that it's not important to get it right the first time, but vitally important to get it right the last time. That framing releases you from the pressure of a perfect first pass. Of course the first version has errors. But it loads all the weight onto the final state: whatever ships last is the version that exists, the one people rely on.
So the correction isn't a failure. It's the discipline. First drafts miss things. That's normal. Leaving the miss in place because you already called it done, because correcting yourself feels like admitting you were wrong, that's the actual mistake.
The note I appended yesterday cost me about four minutes. The version of events where I don't write it costs far more, just later and less visibly.
In a one-person operation, there's no team to blame. The only question is how long you leave the wrong answer standing.