šŸ˜† Chill the f*ck out and just laugh

Trust me. This is the best advice I could ever give you.

This week, I’m celebrating my birthday, and 11 years of marriage. They’re two days apart. šŸŽ‚ā™„ļø

Having my birthday / our anniversary occur in the same week definitely makes it easier for my husband to remember. But if he doesn’t, it’s a world-class f*ck-up, because it means he’s forgotten both.

(His birthday is in February, and I completely forgot until a mutual friend copied me on a ā€œhappy birthdayā€ text to him. So I’m in no position to throw stones.)

In today’s issue, we’ll talk a little bit about business, but you’ll also learn:

  • What you, DBA’s badass readers, do for my motivation.

  • How I’m prioritizing laughter (above all).

  • And why I might be getting a tattoo of Tonya Harding on my hoo-ha. 

God I love her. Source: Tenor

šŸ» THE DRUNK BUSINESS EVERYTHING ADVICE

šŸ‘‰ When in doubt, bet on yourself.

šŸ‘‰ Have fun with your spouse.

šŸ‘‰ Create meaning outside of your work life and home life. It will fuel you.

And now — the story behind why this advice matters. šŸ‘‡ļø 

But first…

For the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing snippets from my new weekly newsletter that helps you write faster, hit harder, and connect the dots between what you know — and what the world needs to hear. Go subscribe, dammit!

What exactly is an origin story?

Your origin story should focus on a moment in your life when you experienced a personal transformation. It should answer the question:

šŸ‘‰ ā€œWhy do you hold your most important belief?ā€

It’s NOT your biography. 

I was at a publishing conference last year where an author was asked, ā€œWhen did you know you had a book in you?ā€.

He replied, ā€œI think everyone has a book in them. And for most people, that’s where it should stay.ā€ šŸ˜†

So if your story begins with ā€œI was born in Bumtoot, Mississippi in 1973ā€¦ā€ — that’s not your origin story. That’s your biography. And unless you’re Benjamin Franklin, nobody gives a shit.

(And no, Bumtoot isn’t a real town in Mississippi. Or anywhere, for that matter.)

But people can’t contain their curiosity when they're teased with a story of an unlikely transformation. And that’s what your origin story should nail.

In last week’s issue of Drunk Writing Advice, I shared three exercises that can help you uncover your origin story. šŸ‘‡

Another year of business…

This year, I started betting on myself.

Not sure yet whether or not that was a good idea. 😬

I’ve turned down a shit-ton of money in client contracts, and so far, haven’t even come close to raking in what I earned the year before when I was saying ā€œyesā€ to that sort of work.

Oh shit. Have I made a huge mistake? Source: Tenor

So why have I done this?

Because having clients is pretty much the same thing as having a job.

You’re operating on their timetable. You’re responsible for their KPIs. You're navigating their company’s politics. And if they decide to dump you, you’re screwed.

Might as well go get a job with benefits. 🤷

So in the last year, I’ve started doubling down my efforts to amplify my own products. I want customers — not clients.

What did that look like?

šŸ‘‰ I started monetizing Drunk Business Advice with my very first sponsor, the prolific Jesus Vargas, founder of LowCode Agency (which you should 100% check out if you’re looking to build custom software for your business).

šŸ‘‰ I spent more time in Stealth Mastermind, and welcomed some new badass entrepreneurs into our little club. (Want an invite to a free program we’re running next month? Hit reply with an answer to this question: ā€œIf you WEREN’T an entrepreneur, what would you be?ā€)

šŸ‘‰ I held my very first 6-week writing workshop with Rebel Scribes, which allowed me to test my writing curriculum on real, live people — which led to…

šŸŽ‰ I launched my first premium newsletter, Drunk Business Writing Advice!

If you want to give me a birthday present, subscribing to Drunk Writing Advice would make me dance a jig (even though I’m on crutches at the moment). It’s a sight, for sure.

I asked my mom to film this for me. Told her it was for work. She truly doesn’t understand my job. šŸ˜† 

As I begin another lap around the sun, I’m going to continue to bet on myself. (I’ve got some interesting creative projects in the works, including Drunk Business Advice: The Book).

And that bet would be boneheaded without the incredible motivation I receive from you — the badasses who read this newsletter.

It’s your engagement, honesty, trust, and support that keeps me moving forward in business. I can’t thank you enough. ā™„ļø

Another year of marriage…

In a rather surprising feat, my highest performing newsletter in the last year was Drunk Business Marriage Advice

(That was, until Big D*ck Nick came a-swingin’, and smashed every record. But hey, even that story happened to be about my husband. It’s a doozy. Go read it if you haven’t yet.)

So, it would seem that y’all are open to hearing my marriage advice.

Fair warning — I am utterly unqualified to speak on this topic. I’m not a shrink. I’ve never studied relationships, analyzed successful couples, or even read a single goddamn book about marriage.

And I’ve been divorced. 🤦

(You can read all about my ex-husband here and here. Seriously. I wrote about him.)

But I am in a pretty happy marriage right now. 

While my husband and I have certainly experienced our ups and downs over the last 11 years, the longer we stick it out, the happier we are together. And these days, our marriage is pretty damn blissful.

How the heck is this possible? 

I always believed the ā€œhoneymoon phaseā€ was supposed to be the most euphoric time in a marriage. There’s newness. There’s excitement. There’s young, hot bodies, unshakable optimism, and an entire future just waiting to be written.

Fast forward 11 years — I can state unapologetically that both of us are fatter, grayer, and gassier than we were back then. And we take far fewer photos…

Left: All dolled up for our first anniversary TEN YEARS AGO! Right: A random meetup at the local Singapore food hall with friends… 8 months ago. šŸ™„

To top it off, we’re both busier, and have more stress in our lives, than we did in the early years of our marriage.

You’d think those things would wear on our relationship. But they don’t. They strengthen it. We’re happier than we’ve ever been—

In our marriage, that is. Life is challenging at the moment.

And I attribute this phenomenon to one simple value: fun.

When we started dating, and I nervously met my mother-in-law for the first time, she quietly asked my husband, ā€œKristin seems very smart and successful — but is she FUN?ā€

We chuckle about that now. His mom knew how critical having a fun spouse is to the longevity of a marriage. 

So one thing we’ve done in recent years is prioritize the fun. I don’t mean by going out and doing ā€œfunā€ things. We’re too damn busy. And tired. And bloated. And sore. And we didn’t sleep great last night.

Instead, we prioritize the fun in our everyday interactions. We play jokes on each other. We have funny little rituals. We chat for hours, and relive hilarious moments. 

We seek out every opportunity to laugh together.

So even though life is slapping us around right now, and it seems like we’re always too busy, the time we do spend together is, frankly, a f*cking hoot.

Another year of life…

It’s been a helluva year. 

If you’ve been following Drunk Business Advice for a little while, you know that three months ago, I underwent major orthopedic surgery on my hip.

And if that wasn’t chaotic enough, I’ve taken on a ton of extra shit.

šŸŽ“ I started working as an advisor in the Harvard Executive program I graduated from a few years ago (it pays pennies, but damn it’s rewarding).

šŸ“‡ I stepped into a leadership role in our alumni association, which has involved raising an endowed fellowship, creating a community platform, and publishing our very first newsletter.

ā›øļø And I joined the board of trustees of a 40-year-old NYC ice theatre company.

Why have I taken all this on? Aren’t I already too busy?

Well, yeah.

But I believe our lives should consist of more than just our ā€œwork lifeā€ and our ā€œhome lifeā€. 

Community provides us with groundedness. Sports and arts are outlets for passion. So we can’t forget to make space for them.

If anything, those commitments have inspired me to recover. For the last month, I’ve been down in Florida doing water therapy. I’m working hard to build up my strength so I can, ya know, walk again (and hopefully ice skate, too!).

Left: Thanking the doctors and nurses at HSS for their incredible care. Middle: My gnarly scars. Right: Enjoying pool therapy down in sunny Florida.

I don’t have any tattoos, but every time I look down at my scars, I’m inspired to incorporate them into some kind of body art. 

And given that I have my figure skating career to thank for this injury, I’d love for my tattoo to represent skating. ā›øļø

My husband thinks I should turn the long scar into Tonya Harding with a lead pipe, and the two little scars should be Nancy Kerrigan’s tears. That way, I’ll have the two most iconic figure skaters permanently positioned on my pelvis.

See?

I told you we have fun. šŸ˜‰

Cheers! šŸ» 

-Kristin

P.S. — If you enjoyed today’s issue, and want a behind-the-scenes look at how I craft Drunk Business Advice every week, don’t forget to subscribe to Drunk WRITING Advice!