Organization...bahaha

I strive to be organized. Like...STRIVE. This is the first year I've used a planner for every month. And wrote shit down. At fifty-four. 

I know some of it is ADHD. It's actually in the description. Because I have the best of intentions, but I forget. A lot. Like it's a hereditary trait my DNA must hold onto, or I will wither up and die.

I have a PA now. Love her. She helps, thank goodness. She has a sheet with goals for every month and whatnot. Forced me to jot down the wants and needs of my business in black and white. Did I do it for the next eight months?

Of course I did.

It's feast or famine with me.

Sent out a test newsletter a couple days ago. 

Told you about my shitshow with Email Octopus.

But when I went to upload my actual newsletter, it took me five minutes.

I need everyone to breathe deeply with me and say a couple of "ohms" because fuck.

Now. I think I was supposed to let my PA do all of that.

I think I needed to only find the platform, and I don't fucking know what.

🤷

Then give her snips and snaps I wanted in there.

I mocked the whole thing up in Canva, loved it, and uploaded it.😬

I'm a basic bitch with this stuff. It's clean and easy-to-read. Nothing dazzling or glittery. I'd rather save my time for writing. But even having a PA is confusing. She does my reels, ARC management, and newsletter management. 

Unfortunately, my PA dictionary is missing.

What does this MEAN?

I used to be a control freak. Now...I'm a little better. But I want my imprint all over everything. I want my readers to know it's me, and I put the effort in.

Is anything ever easy with me?

Stay tuned for an upcoming blog, "I think the fuck not."