Charlie Hoehn first reached out to me in 2008 through Ramit Sethi.
Shortly thereafter, I hired him as a part-time intern. Eventually, he became a full-time employee.
For three years, we worked together on a number of projects, most notably the The 4-Hour Body and the Opening the Kimono event. Charlie’s responsibilities ranged from “professional” tasks (planning VIP parties, assembling scandalous guest posts, coordinating logistics for 15,000 orders during the Land Rush campaign, etc.) to productive tomfoolery (epic grocery shopping sprees, editing vajayjay photos, photographing giraffe make outs, persuading me to swallow 25 pills at once).
It was one hell of a ride. We had a lot of fun, and we had some huge successes.
From day one, Charlie expressed a constant desire to become a hyper-efficient and effective entrepreneur. His role expanded as he requested more responsibilities (“What else can I do to help?” he’d ask me repeatedly), and we often found ourselves juggling several projects at once.
Most of the time, we handled it well. And as Charlie’s comfort zone stretched, his confidence increased, his communication and abilities improved, and our day-to-day operations were generally strife-free. We worked well together.
Then — in the middle of making The 4-Hour Chef — he suddenly quit. It hit me like a ton of bricks.
Finding work-life balance (or work-life “separation,” as I prefer) in a connected world is challenging. Speaking personally, I’m either 100% ON (for book launches, creative deadlines, etc.) or 100% OFF (such as my recent excursion to Bali). This ability to hit the shut-off switch helps me remain sane, separate work from pleasure, and it usually prevents me from burning out.
In this post, Charlie will share his story: what it was like to work with me for three years, and what led up to his burnout.
For all Type-A driven readers — especially those who struggle with the shut-off switch — this one is for you… Read More