Oh, hey, oops it’s Friday.

The kind of Friday that occurs the first week of August following the first day of school (yesterday).

Also known as a black hole in which everything is compressed and time passes differently.

Or maybe it’s just the 5:30 a.m. alarm?

Whatever threw me off balance, I’m here to say this Friday edition is brought to you by the rare hustle that is sending children to begin 5th and 7th grade, with a sprinkling of “You’re 7th grader is now taking high school level math (Algebra) that will appear on her high school transcript.”

What?

We’re already there?

Impossible.

But it’s happening.

And the note that came home yesterday says she needs a fancy calculator… which led us to a pretty comical moment last night.

You see, I’ve moved 5 times in my adult life and each time attempted to purge my belongings.

At some point during the moving process (x5) I have had to decide:

Do I keep this graphing calculator or toss it?

My choice has always been to keep it.

Why?

I’m not entirely sure.

Maybe I think I’ll suddenly need to solve a problem only it can help solve?

Or maybe I’ve been unconsciously saving it to pass along to a daughter?

Today she took my TI-86 (circa 1998) to school to ask her teacher if it’s going to work for what she needs or if we should just buy her the recommended TI-84.

The 86 accompanied me through AP Calculus and Physics as a senior in high school, the only girl in both classes.

In this moment, while writing, I realize I held onto it as a sentimental object more than a potential functioning piece of equipment (it does still work).

It somehow represents me doing a hard thing:

Not dropping the classes after the other girls attended for a day then abandoned.

Holding out and passing with As.

Feeling simultaneously out of place and where I should be.

Whether it will prove useful for my daughter is an open question for now, but there is a newslettering lesson here:

The defining moments in your life are always with you, whether or not you physically haul them from state to state as the years pass.

They exist as emotional wells you can tap into from time to time.

This one in particular reminds me that I’ve always been ok with standing out and doing a thing others deemed not worth the effort.

And with blazing my own trail.

Does your newsletter do this?

Or is it a formulaic knock off of a best practice?

This week I encourage you to step back and look at what you’ve been sending to assess it for its value to your subscribers.

Is it uniquely differentiated in a meaningful way?

Does it grab and hold attention no other sender could grab and hold in the same way because they don’t share your point of view or come to the blank screen with your experiences?

These things are difficult to calculate, but they should be part of the equation.

Ashley Guttuso