The Day We Moved
Last week I had to send two corrections.
Both women had registered for this week's free class. Both had been told, in writing, that day one was Monday. And then I looked at the calendar properly and saw what I should have seen the first time: Monday was Labor Day.
So we moved it. Day one is today, Tuesday.
I want to tell you about the two minutes I spent before I sent those messages, because they turned into something I have not been able to put down since.
My first instinct was to run the class anyway
That is the honest version. My first thought was not "we should not ask people to show up on a federal holiday." My first thought was "everyone will be around."
And the thing is, I was probably right. That is exactly the problem.
If I had run day one on Labor Day, I do not believe attendance would have suffered much. Not in this profession. Some of you would have joined from a laptop at the kitchen table while the grill was going. Some of you were at your desks anyway. A few of you would have thanked me for giving you something useful to do while everyone else was at the lake.
I know this because of who you are. Last week I went through a batch of new connections and nine of twenty-three were outside the United States entirely — Canada, Brazil, the Philippines, India, Pakistan, Latvia, the UK. This is a profession that is awake somewhere at every hour of the day. A Monday in September was never going to stop it.
But "they will show up anyway" is not a reason to ask. It is a reason to look at why.
What the holiday is actually for
Labor Day did not come from a greeting card company. It came out of a long, ugly fight about hours — about whether there was any limit at all to what could be asked of a person in a week. Congress made it a federal holiday in 1894, in the immediate aftermath of a strike that ended with federal troops in the streets.
The whole point of the day is the idea that work has an edge. That somewhere there is a line, and on one side of it your time belongs to you.
Now think about how our profession actually spent it.
One week from today is September 15. Every calendar-year partnership and S corporation that went on extension is due. Then October 15 arrives for the individual returns. Which means Labor Day weekend 2026 was not a long weekend for most of the people reading this. It was three quiet days with no client emails — the best working conditions of the month.
We did not get a holiday. We got an outage.
The two women
Here is what has stayed with me.
The first one had replied to a message from me and told me what she wanted, in her own words: to learn how to use AI responsibly to help with repetitive work. Not to move faster. Not to take on forty more clients. To stop doing the same thing over and over, without breaking anything in the process.
The second one never replied to me at all. She read one message, said nothing, and registered an hour later. She runs her own books practice. She is also, quietly, looking at what else is out there.
Neither of them asked me for a bigger business. They asked for their hours back.
I wrote a week ago about the three doors people reach for when the work outgrows them — hire, outsource, or build. I still think most of the profession picks the first two by default, and I understand why. But both of those doors solve capacity by adding people, and adding people costs the very thing you are short of: your time, at the front end, teaching someone what you already know.
The third door is the only one where the hour you spend today is the hour you stop spending forever.
So here is the ask, and I am not going to be coy about it
A free full week of AI training. One hour a day. Five days. No cost, no card, nothing to cancel.
Not a webinar. Not a demo that turns into a pitch at minute forty. Five consecutive days of actual working sessions, at 3 PM Central, where you build things that run in your own practice.
The next week is September 14 to 18. Registration closes this Friday, September 11, at 11:59 PM Eastern.
And yes — I know exactly what that week is. Day two is the 15th. I am not pretending that is convenient.
I am telling you to come anyway, and I will tell you why. The week you least have time for this is the week that proves the point. If an hour a day during deadline week is genuinely impossible, then the problem is not your calendar this month, it is your capacity every month, and pushing it to a quieter week will not fix that. Come for the hour you can make. Watch the recordings for the days you cannot. Access stays open through Sunday, September 20.
And if that week is truly out, two more are already open on the same form:
- September 28 to October 2 — register by Friday, September 25
- October 5 to 9 — register by Friday, October 2
Pick one. Put it in the calendar as five one-hour appointments, the way you would a client call, and then keep them.
One last thing
I moved one day of one class because of one holiday, and it felt like a small administrative correction until I sat with what it meant.
A profession that has to be reminded to take Labor Day off is not a profession with a scheduling problem. It is one that has quietly accepted that the work is infinite and the only variable is how much of your life you feed it.
I do not think that is true anymore. I think a meaningful share of what keeps you at the desk at 4 AM is repetitive, describable, and can be handed to something that does not get tired. Not all of it. Not the judgment, not the client relationships, not the parts that need you. But enough of it that next Labor Day could be an actual day off.
That is the whole reason I give the week away.
[Choose your free week — September 14–18, September 28–October 2, or October 5–9. Free, one hour a day.]
— Yvonne