Do what you know!

Today I hired another assistant. New to the company, but I have known and worked along side her for four years. Now I know that those who follow the blog are aware of my love of all things "assistance". My company needs management but more than anything "I" need management. I am a force to be reckoned with. Like a turbulent tornado swallowed in paper paraphernalia, phone calls, sales calls, emails, minute details and posty notes. I race around claiming to juggle it all. But in actuality THEY juggle it all. I attempt a half assed version, throwing a half written, torn up, crumpled posty note at them with a laundry list of VERY important details, and miraculously they come out on the other side with a snazzy excel spreadsheet. Who knew there was a program with such nice lines, and columns? Does it come in color?

Somehow,someway, my girls take this holocaust of disorganization and come to me with a methodical ordered demeanor and supervise me. They are the gatekeepers. Im the front runner, chasing down the jobs, pursuing new jobs, making advances to get the job, producing smiles on the daunting client projects, conjuring up the best solutions and making promises that I KNOW my girls can keep. And at the end of the day I hope on a wing and a prayer that all those posty notes made some kind of sense and somehow ended up in one of those fancy spreadsheets with nice lines and columns. Yes Im sure the consistent lack of consistency with unhinged, loopy ways drives them nuts, with a side of bananas. BUT they always say to hire help that makes up for your inadequacies. I definitely fall short in the adequate, efficient, and organized column. Thus the reason I hire girls who are adequate, efficient, and organized for me.

So this post is for those who still think they cannot afford an assistant. You can not afford NOT TO. Without my girls, I would be a disheveled, inefficient windstorm with a barrage of pandemonium circling around me like pigpin from peanuts. Even with them by my side there is still a level of disorder (that I create, and it is totally all in my head) that surrounds me in overwhelming T-storms. But they come to me with a methodical ordered demeanor and supervise me. They are the gatekeepers. And somehow, someway they manage to manage me, crumbled, torn scribbled posty notes and all.