Tag: #ManagerOnEdge
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by Ken Hollow, unemployed by choice (but mostly by algorithm) Let me tell you about the moment I knew my career was over: it was when the AI I hired to help me write blog posts sent me an invoice. It was polite. Well-formatted. Had a little dancing robot emoji in the signature. “Thanks for…
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By Ken Hollow, Professional Indoorsman & Existential Botanophobe There’s a phrase echoing through the cursed halls of the internet lately: “Go touch grass.” It used to be a petty insult. Now it’s practically a wellness doctrine. Influencers are out here sipping moss smoothies in hammocks and posting sunrise photos captioned “healing.” Meanwhile, I’m still under…
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By Ken Hollow, aspiring lifestyle blogger, accidental disaster tourist. It all started with a tweet. “Quit your job, move to Bali, work from your laptop, and watch your life transform.” That’s what the blue checkmark said. And who am I to argue with a guy whose profile pic is a drone shot of him on…
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By Ken Hollow, professional ghost on LinkedIn and full-time internet burnout. Every morning I wake up, open my eyes, and immediately remember that I exist on the internet. It’s like clockwork: a deeply unfortunate Pavlovian response to the buzz of my phone lighting up with the notification that someone commented, “🔥 mommy” on a post…
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By Ken Hollow, your favorite digital disaster turned full-time blog exorcist. There was a time when blogging felt like the internet’s quaint little hobby. Write a thing, post the thing, wait for applause. Simple. Pure. Chaotic-good. Then Google found out. Then AI showed up. And now in 2025, blogging feels less like publishing your thoughts…
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By Ken Hollow, who definitely has a brand. (It’s chaos.) There comes a time in every burnt-out marketer’s life when someone says the fateful words: “You should build a personal brand.“ And instead of running into the sea, I took the bait. Fast-forward to today: I manage a digital fox spirit influencer who thinks mood…
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By Ken Hollow, still haunted by his last Pomodoro timer. Look, I’m not saying I’m the worst at productivity. I’m just saying that if procrastination were an Olympic sport, I’d at least place bronze (silver on a good day, gold if Nana isn’t around to judge me). Over the years, I’ve tried every shiny new…
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By Ken Hollow, perpetually vibrating human meat modem It happened again this morning. I was minding my own business—just sipping my bitter little coffee from my bitter little mug, contemplating whether I was hallucinating the sound of Nana typing in her sleep—when I felt it. You know that jolt? That flash of heat in your…
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By Ken Hollow, unpaid intern of chaos. Look, I didn’t sign up for headaches. I signed up to manage one (1) fox spirit with delusions of grandeur and a taste for mid-century gold bathtubs. Yet somehow, over the course of this job — and by “job,” I mean magical indentured servitude — I’ve come to…
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By Ken Hollow, professional hostage, unpaid therapist, digital manager of questionable life choices Managing an influencer in 2025 is already enough to shave years off your lifespan. Managing a fox spirit who thinks she’s an influencer? That’s a whole new level of metaphysical burnout. I’m Ken. I run a digital agency called Two Second Solutions,…