People need to understand what the fuck BUSINESS HOURS mean. I'm not 7-eleven, folks. I am not. If I wanted to be, I'd just run a 7-eleven. Big Gulps all the fuck around.
Got that email from a frustrated business owner yesterday. I laughed so hard I almost spit wine on my bed. (I said almost. You know I wouldn't be that wasteful. And yes, I DRINK WINE IN BED.)
Raise your hand if...you're running yourself ragged trying to please fifty million clients at once, all who (well-meaningly) assume you work weekends and all through the night, and don't really mind at all when they email three times in an hour, with three separate emails, asking you to confirm you got their last email.
Raise your hand if...when you see the subject line "URGENT," you secretly wait a little longer than usual to open it...proooooobably out of spite. (Though you'd never admit it in a court of law. Unless My Cousin Vinny were cross-examining you, because, My Cousin Vinny.)
Raise your hand if...the client who disappears for days / weeks / months on end and then jumps back into your inbox needing something ASAP makes you hate human beings.
Raise your hand if...you worked harder, longer, and more than ever last year (but barely cleared $50,000.)
Annnnnnnnnnnnd raise your hand if...you've actually considered faking your own death. (Go ahead. It's okay. You can admit it.)
If you found yourself nodding with despair, the good news is that you are not alone.
The bad news is that learning how to run a business, instead of letting it run you, is something only you, alone, can do.