It’s past 1pm as I write this, which means I am under pressure. I have to finish this email, and then hide a few important knick-knacks where Flor won’t find them.
Flor is my new cleaning woman.
Every Thursday, she arrives at 2pm, or a little before.
And then, over the course of a few hours, while I vacate the house, she mops the floors… cleans the bathrooms… dusts the shelves… polishes any glass surfaces… scours the sinks… rearranges the contents of my fridge and kitchen cupboards… throws out anything she doesn’t like or understand or approve of… and folds and hides any clothes I may have foolishly left out, in a place where I won’t find them for days.
Flor’s been coming for a few weeks now. When she started coming, a friend asked me, “Will you judge her? Will you evaluate how well she’s cleaning your apartment?”
Good God no. The thought never even occurred to me.
I was living in filth before. Well, not filth filth, but filth enough, by my standards.
I had been cleaning my large apartment unwillingly, rarely, partially. I wished somebody would come and clean it for me, all the way, and every week.
And then Flor came into my life.
Now, my sinks are clean — enough. My floor is clean — enough. My shower is clean — enough.
And I’m very satisfied. I gladly pay her whatever wage she asks for. I get out of her way. I take the time to put back the things she’s rearranged for me, or I even let her have her own way. And when I do spot something less than perfectly clean — and it does happen — then I just shrug my shoulders, smile, and say, “Oh Flor!”
Maybe you’re wondering where I’m going with this. Here:
Yesterday, I wrote about this email I sent last autumn, the Bejako Baggins email, which resonated with a lot of people.
In that email, a deliverability wizard made me the offer to fix all my deliverability problems for me, for free.
And yet, I ended up nitpicking and complaining and dragging the poor guy along, and in the end I sent him away with nothing to show for his efforts.
The point of that email was that even if you have the best offer and the most perfect marketing, you will fail if you are selling to people who don’t really have the problem you are solving, or who don’t really care to solve that problem.
My message today is the inverse of that.
Be like Flor.
Or at least, be somebody who serves those who have a problem that they want solved, now. Those who are not nitpicking and shopping around and comparing your offer to every other offer under the sun, because they have the time, luxury, and headspace to do so.
Be like Flor… and the selling will be easier… the price more elastic… and the delivery more pleasant.
And now:
I have no offer to promote to you.
Because honestly, none of my courses fit the criteria I just told you above. None of them is really about a problem that needs to be solved, now.
I’m working on fixing that.
Meanwhile, maybe you can help me. Or maybe I can help you.
Do you have a problem that you would pay to have solved? In particular, something with regard to making more sales, or freeing up your time, or working with better customers or clients?
If you do, hit reply and let’s talk. Maybe I can be your Flor for you, and quickly clean up the mess you’re living in, and rearrange your shelves and fridge, in a way you will cheerfully accept and pay for.