For years, I thought I just couldn't stick with a system. Planners, apps, morning routines, whole philosophies. I'd try one, feel like a failure two weeks in, and start again with something new.
What I didn't have yet was the language for what was actually happening. It wasn't until a few years ago that I learned my brain is simply wired differently. I have ADHD and autism. AuDHD, for shorthand.
This episode is about the very specific, practical way that affects how I build things, how I run my days, and how I've had to design my business around a brain that does not operate the way most systems assume it will.
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In this episode
Why the "try harder, stick with the system" loop is a design problem, not a discipline problem
The three patterns I've built my business around: intensity, seasons and protection
How I communicate my workflow to clients so they know what to expect
Why rest is part of the work, not the reward for it
How I use AI with intention for admin, messy emails and meeting notes
The piece I tried to hide the longest: memory
Why productivity systems don't work for every brain
For a long time, I tried to force myself into systems that were built for people who think in straight lines. Planners with daily checklists. Time-blocking every hour. Morning routines that assume you wake up the same way every day.
And they would work for about a week. Maybe two. Then I'd fall off, feel like a failure, and start again with a different app, a different planner, a different approach. Minimalism, Pomodoro, bullet journaling. I've tried them all. The cycle was exhausting, and the worst part was I kept blaming myself for it. Like if I just tried harder, I'd finally become the person who sticks with the system.
I remember sitting at my desk one afternoon with three different planning systems open. A paper planner. A digital task manager. A colour-coded Google calendar. And I was paralyzed. I had a massive to-do list. I knew exactly what needed to happen. But my brain could not land on where to start.
I could plan and manage a two-hundred-person wedding without a hitch. I could run a live event with fifty moving parts and make real-time decisions under pressure. But I could not sit at my own desk and answer three emails.
It's not about capability. It's about the disconnect between what you can do in the right conditions and what you can't do when the conditions are wrong. In an event environment, there's novelty, urgency, a clear structure with a hard deadline, energy in the room. My brain loves that. But sitting alone at a desk with a list of admin tasks and no external pressure? There's no activation. Nothing for my brain to latch onto. I spent years thinking that was a personal failing. It's a design problem.
So I stopped reading the books and watching the videos about how to optimize your morning, and started paying attention to what was actually happening when I was in flow. Real flow, not just busy. And patterns started showing up.
Pattern one: intensity and batching
I don't do well with a little bit of something spread across five days. I do well with a lot of something concentrated into a short window.
When I'm writing podcast scripts, I don't write one paragraph a day. I sit down and write the whole thing, or I batch three or four at a time. My brain needs to be fully inside something to do its best thinking. If I spread that across a week with interruptions in between, I lose the thread. I have to re-enter the thinking every single time. And re-entry is the expensive part for my brain. It's not the work that's hard. It's the switching.
Same with event planning. I don't chip away at a client's design plan across two weeks of scattered meetings. I do an intensive. A deep-dive session. And I tell my clients this too: "I have a design block in my schedule for your event on Thursday. If you have any new inspiration or updates, give it to me by Wednesday." I communicate the intention behind how I use my time, so they know their project is getting dedicated time on a dedicated date.
Intensity looks different when I'm learning something new with my hands. I'm building a reading bench at my back window, and I can only learn something like that in short bursts. I go as far as I can, as deep into the learning and design as I can, and then I step away. Am I super annoyed it's not done yet? Yes. Am I also proud that I'm learning something new? Also yes. Same brain, different pace.
Pattern two: working in seasons
I don't operate well on a flat, consistent schedule. I operate in seasons.
That doesn't mean I have no routines. I have an obscene number of small things I do in a day to manage all of this. Habit stacking. Little cues. Systems I built over years. They're worked in so deeply that I don't really notice them anymore. If you're curious where to start, Atomic Habits by James Clear is a great book.
There are build seasons, where I'm creating, producing, recording, launching. Intense, focused, high output. And then there are integration seasons, where I'm resting, reviewing, absorbing what I built and letting it run. For a long time, I thought the integration seasons were me being lazy.
The internet loves to tell you that consistency is the answer to everything. Post every day. Show up every day. But I don't think consistency is one thing for everyone. It's what works for you, that you can maintain, that doesn't burn you out, that still gets you to your goals. For me, consistency lives in my rituals. The rest of my work takes a different shape. And one thing I've learned is the art of putting something down for a season, for a reason.
We treat rest like the reward for the work. It's not. It's part of the work. I need the sprint. I need the space. I'm not anti-hustle. I love working hard. What I am is anti-hustle-all-the-time. The model that works for me is build, rest, reset, fire again.
Pattern three: protecting focus and automating admin
The third pattern was protection. Protecting my focus like it's a non-renewable resource, because for me, it kind of is.
I work in office Tuesday to Thursday. Friday through Monday are usually for client events. That's the structure. That's the boundary. And Mondays are especially protected. Monday is often a day off. But if Monday is a workday, it's a No Meetings Monday. Always, forever, amen. I've had that rule for years, and it has saved me so many times. Some Mondays are vendor returns after a weekend event. Some are a reset after three weekends of stacked events: the house, the office, the travel bags, the emergency kits, the outfits.
I've also released myself from the expectation that I operate like a nine-to-fiver. I have a client guide that explains it. I had one couple who kept emailing me on Friday nights and wouldn't hear from me until Tuesday. People forget that on the weekend, we are at the events. So I explained my workflow. It was a light-hearted chat, but it was needed. If I can't take care of myself, our staff and our process, I'm never going to do a good job taking care of my clients. You train people how to treat you.
Inside those office days, I'm ruthless about what gets my attention. If something can be automated, I automate it. If something can be templated, it gets a template. If something doesn't need me to think, it doesn't get to sit in my head.
I use AI with intention and purpose. It's a hot topic, and it's a very real concern for our planet. Not something I take lightly. Right now I'm learning to build automations through Make that take admin off my plate. And emails. I get lost in poorly structured details coming through in emails. So I've given Claude the directive: "I'm a busy CEO with no time for messy communication. Organize it. Give me the details in bullet form, flag the areas that need my brain, tell me the CTA for the clients." I also use it to turn meeting notes into our client planning docs, so everything is tracked and easy to follow.
Not because I'm lazy. Because every repetitive task that lives in my head is one less creative thought I get to have that day. If I let the small things pile up, they don't just take time. They take bandwidth. And bandwidth, for an AuDHD brain, is the thing you can't get back once it's spent.
Designing systems for the person actually doing the work
Here's what I've actually built. It's not pretty. It doesn't photograph well for Instagram. But it works for my brain.
I structure around energy, not time. I don't ask myself what needs to get done today. I ask myself what kind of thinking I'm capable of today. I time-block my whole week, colour-coded, but the work blocks move. ADHD combined basically means it's a crapshoot what kind of energy I'll get each day. So today I might write instead of doing strategy, and I move the blocks around. Some days I can write. Some days I can plan. Some days I can only handle admin. I've stopped treating the admin-only days as failures. Not every day has to be a high-output day for the week to be productive.
I automate what drains me. Not a note to self. Not a reminder. An actual automated process that runs without me. Because the goal isn't to remember everything. The goal is to need to remember less.
And real talk: memory. I don't remember things. Random facts about gardening, sure, because I'm actively using them. But the exact linen you picked, the five cake samples you tried, Uncle Bob's allergy you mentioned in our meeting? That has to be written down immediately and worked into the system. Of all the things about my AuDHD, this is the one I tried to hide the most. So I've stopped battling it. I make my strengths stronger, find workarounds, and bring in people who are strong where I'm not. Recording meetings means I can be fully present with you and creative in real time, instead of trying to write everything down.
The last one took the longest to accept. I stopped building systems for the version of myself I wish I was. The one who wakes up at six, journals, does a workout, and then gets straight to work. Every time I built a system for her, I failed. Not because I lack discipline. Because I was designing for the wrong user. The real me needs flexibility in the morning, a slow start with tea and quiet, and a hard stop in the afternoon. Once I started designing for that person, everything got easier. Not because the work changed. Because the system finally fit the brain doing the work.
Key line
What if the problem was never discipline? What if it was design?
Reflection question
If you looked at the systems you're currently using, your schedule, your workflow, your routines, were they designed for how you actually function? Or for how you think you're supposed to?
Timestamps
00:02 The thing that took me a long time to feel okay about
00:49 Getting the language: ADHD and autism
06:56 Trying to fit systems built for straight lines
07:56 Three planners open and paralyzed
12:24 Pattern one: intensity
19:18 Learning with my hands: the reading bench
24:26 Pattern two: seasons
31:11 Rest is part of the work
33:26 Pattern three: protection
35:21 No Meetings Monday
40:28 Not a nine-to-fiver
43:08 Using AI with intention
47:13 What I've actually built
50:39 Structuring around energy, not time
55:44 Memory
58:49 Designing for the real me
1:00:54 Reflection question
FAQ
Why don't regular productivity systems work for ADHD or AuDHD brains?
A lot of them are built for people who think in straight lines: daily checklists, every hour blocked, the same morning routine every day. When they stop working after a week or two, it's easy to blame yourself. For me, it was never a discipline problem. It was a design problem.
How do you batch work with ADHD?
I work in concentrated windows instead of a little bit every day. Writing a whole script in one sitting, or batching three or four. Re-entering the thinking is the expensive part, so fewer switches means more depth.
What is No Meetings Monday?
It's a rule I've had for years. Monday is often a day off, and if it's a workday, there are no meetings. It's my reset after weekend events, and it protects my focus for the rest of the week.
How do you use AI to manage admin?
With intention. I'm building automations through Make for repetitive admin, and I use Claude to organize messy emails into bullet points, flag what needs my brain, and turn meeting notes into client planning docs. The goal is to need to remember less.
This post is based on Season 1, Episode 7 of Work, By Design, a podcast by Amanda Douglas & Co. about redesigning how you work.
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