I measured 681 AI sessions: where your money actually goes

What I did

I kept a record of all my work with an AI for four months: 681 sessions, across 41 different projects, between 17 April and 10 August 2026.

Every exchange leaves a trace of what it consumed. So I did not guess anything: I added it up.

Fair warning: part of the result proved me wrong.

Nine requests out of ten cost almost nothing

That is the first finding, and it changes everything.

When you ask your AI for something ordinary — add a page, fix this text, explain that to me — it barely registers on your subscription. You can do plenty of it.

It is the remaining 10% of requests that eat more than half of everything. One bad request can cost as much as thirty good ones.

So the question is not “am I talking to it too much”. The question is: what happens in those moments?

The moment that costs: when it keeps hammering

I looked at what happens inside those requests. It is always the same scene.

You ask it to fix something. It edits a file. It does not work. It edits the file again. Still nothing. It edits it again. And all of that without you saying a word in between.

Here is the weight of it:

What is happening	Out of 100 requests	Share of your subscription
It touches the same file 3+ times	15	41%
It touches the same file 5+ times	8	21%

One request in seven eats four tenths of everything.

And comparing a hammering request to a normal one: it produces six times more text to end up in the same place. In almost every case I re-read, the final result was already what the second attempt had produced. The later tries fixed nothing, they moved the problem around.

How you spot it, live

There is one tell, and it does not lie.

While it names the cause, it is genuinely searching. It says “the problem comes from this file”, “this line is what blocks it”. Let it work.

When it switches to “let me try something else”, with no reason given, it is over. It is not searching any more, it is permuting. It will hand you the same three solutions in a different order.

That sentence is where you cut it off.

What I believed, and what is wrong

Before measuring, I would have sworn the bulk of the spend came from something else: having to re-explain everything each time. Your project, what you want, how you work — re-sent in full every morning.

It is true that it re-reads all of it on every exchange, and the volume is enormous. But the tools keep that in memory and count it at a fraction of the normal price. That mechanism exists for exactly this.

Re-explaining costs you time, not money. I had it wrong, and I would rather tell you than sell you the opposite.

What you can do tonight

Give it an attempt limit. Two tries on the same problem, then it stops and tells you what it tried. That is one sentence written once into your instruction file. It targets precisely the one request in seven that costs you most.

Learn the sentence that signals it has given up. “Let me try something else.” The moment you read it, take back control.

Stop feeling guilty about re-explaining your project. That is not what costs you.

How I counted

So you can check, or run the measurement yourself.

Your assistant keeps a record of every session on your computer, with the detail of what each reply consumed. I read all 681 files, discarding none, including the shortest sessions.

I called “a request” everything happening between two moments where I wrote something. A “hammering” request is one where it edits the same file at least three times without me stepping in.

And one thing I failed to measure: I wanted to count how often it told me “it’s fixed” when it was not. My counter found 42 cases. Looking closer, there were 1,662 it had missed. So it was wrong, and I would rather drop that figure than hand you a number I know to be bad.