Waking up this morning, I realized something.

 

I don’t remember the score.
I don’t remember most of the game.

 

But I do remember the commercials. And not all of them,  just the ones that actually did something.

 

 

It felt like it was written by someone who knows exactly what shows I watch, what corners of the internet I live on, and how pop culture lives rent-free in my brain. It wasn’t trying to be clever. It was familiar. Self-aware. Almost comforting in a “yeah, you get me” kind of way.

 

It felt like an inside joke you didn’t have to work to understand.

Then there was the Liquid Death energy drink commercial.

People’s heads literally blowing off. Fully unhinged. Slightly disturbing. Definitely not subtle.

 

And yet… here I am thinking about it the next morning. It didn’t ask to be liked. It just committed to the bit and said, “This is who we are.” Respect.

And then Budweiser.

 

The horse and the eagle growing up together. The quiet bond. The horse protecting the eagle when it mattered. No chaos. No noise. Just loyalty and history and that slow emotional punch to the chest.

 

I didn’t even fight it. It got me. I grew up on that stuff.

And lying there this morning, I realized why those commercials stuck and the rest completely disappeared…

None of those ads tried to do everything.

 

Dunkin didn’t try to be shocking or emotional.
Liquid Death didn’t try to be relatable or safe.
Budweiser didn’t try to be funny or clever.

 

They each picked a lane and stayed there.

 

Meanwhile, most of us are out here trying to be:

strategic and relatable

professional and personal

visible and behind the scenes

the quarterback and the halftime show

 

All at once. Every day.

 

That’s exhausting.

When you try to be everything, nothing really lands.

 

Not because you’re bad at it.

But because you’re carrying too much.

 

Most women I talk to aren’t overwhelmed because they’re disorganized. They’re overwhelmed because they’re holding all the roles at the same time. 

 

The thinker. The doer. The checker. The reminder. The backup plan.

There’s no space to just… play your position.

 

And that’s why things feel heavy even when they’re technically “working.”

This week, pay attention to what role you’re playing 
that doesn’t actually need to be yours.

 

Not what you’re bad at.
Not what you hate.

 

 

That’s usually the first thing that wants to come off your plate.

If reading this made you think,
“Yeah… I’m doing too many jobs at once,”
you don’t need a full overhaul to fix that.

 

For February, I’m taking on a small number of one-time projects for women who want to clean something up, get something off their plate, or finally stop being the only one holding a specific piece of their business together.

 

Not ongoing support.
Not a long contract.
Not a dramatic decision.

 

 

 

If you want to hand off one thing and breathe a little easier this month, 
reply to this email with “PROJECT” and I’ll let you know if it’s a good fit.

 

No pressure.
Just an option.