Most mornings, I'm woken up by my dog, Sally, who tactically stands a safe distance from the bed to avoid me swatting her as her gentle whines grow more insistent with each passing minute. This usually starts somewhere between 5:30 and 6:00 a.m. Eventually, I roll out of bed, make some coffee, and feed the whiner.
While I drink my coffee, I check emails, process any overnight sales, and respond to customer messages if needed. The next hour is devoted to Sally. We head out through a winding maze of alleyways to the nearest park, where she runs wild with her pack of street dog friends. These regulars wait patiently because they know I always bring treats.
In the name of self-care, I stretch a little and do laps around the basketball court while the dogs play. On our way back, I grab breakfast from the same street vendor every day. By 8:00 a.m., we’re home, and I’m ready to start work. It’s a simple, somewhat enjoyable routine, depending on the weather.
The Creative Cycle
My workday is governed by where I am in the creative process.
If I’m excited about a new idea, I’ll dive into Adobe Illustrator or Photoshop and become completely absorbed for hours. I tend to love my designs in the moment, but I’ve learned not to trust that initial enthusiasm.
Experience has taught me to walk away for a day or two, and come back later with fresh eyes and a different perspective.
Too many times, I’ve immediately followed through with designs that were either too niche or just not strong enough, only to waste time and money when they didn’t sell. Now, I hit pause and reassess before moving forward.
During this "cooling-off" phase, I do some market research. I’ll run the idea through Google Trends, Etsy, and Amazon to see what kind of engagement similar products get. If no one’s looking for it, there’s not much point in listing it.
From Concept to Product
Once I commit to a design, I upload it in all its size variations to my print provider, collect mockups (which can take a couple of hours), and start preparing the listing for my website. That means keyword research, writing a compelling title, product description, and alt tags for accessibility. Then I duplicate the listing for Etsy (yes, I'm still there for now) and my Google Merchant Center account, which acts as a free advertising stream.
Many of my designs can be adapted to other products such as pillows, bedding, or rugs. Once the original item is live, I reformat it for additional products. With the keyword research already done, those listings take less time to publish.
The Marketing Monster
When I’m not designing, I’m marketing, which I honestly find a very difficult but necessary evil.
I don’t pay for marketing tools like Canva or scheduling apps like Tailwind. Not because I’m cheap or think I can do it better, but because I have more time than money. So I do it manually. Once a week, I batch-create Pinterest pins using my ancient version of Photoshop (CS4). I either make my own mockups, buy them from Etsy sellers, or use those provided by my print-on-demand supplier. I post new pins daily directly from my Pinterest account. The beauty of Pinterest is that content doesn’t have a shelf life, so it can surface months or even years later.
Instagram is another story
I post maybe three times a week, and every time feels like pulling teeth. I find social media uncomfortable. The idea of sharing curated pieces of my life to attract strangers to my shop feels forced. I know it's part of the game, but it leaves me cringing, and I’m terrible at it. My few followers are mostly friends, not customers. As for reels or videos, forget it. I don't know how to use my phone camera properly, and I’m fairly certain no one wants to watch a middle-aged, visually challenged woman stumble around the uneven streets of Panajachel with a dog in tow, even if the backdrop is lovely. It’s just not for me.
Blog Block
I’ve started blogging, but even that’s proving problematic. Apparently, I’m supposed to write about topics directly related to the things I sell. For example, ChatGPT gave me this ideas list:
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Wakaleka’s Fall Color Palette: Earthy, Rich & Unexpected
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Mood Board: Art Deco Meets Modern Minimalism
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Desert Tones & Dreamy Rugs: Southwest Style for City Homes
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A Cozy, Colorful Winter Bedroom Mood Board
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Shower Curtains as Statement Art (Yes, Really)
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Your Home, Your Story: Expressing Personality Through Decor
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Farmhouse with a Twist: How to Modernize a Classic Look
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The Magic of Black-and-White Decor (That Doesn’t Feel Cold)
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Calm, Not Bland: A Softer Take on Neutrals
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Three Signature Looks Using Wakaleka Designs
But honestly, who wants to read 1,000 words about that stuff? I don't. And I don't want to write it. Topics such as these have been covered ad nauseam by more prolific and better writers than I who have photography budgets and editors at their fingertips.
What I'd rather do is write about my personal experiences while traveling abroad. These stories have little to do with Wakaleka or home décor but everything to do with being human. They’d be more fun to write and, I suspect, more interesting to read. But I waffle. How much of my life should I really share online? Some of my stories are colorful, yes, but many also involve questionable choices and legally grey areas that might not appeal to everyone.
Let me know what you think. What would you actually like to read?
Email and Ads
I've built a small email list, which I try to grow by offering a discount in exchange for a name and address. I send emails twice a month via Mailchimp, usually announcing new products, promotions, or updates from the website. I don’t want to email people more often than that. It feels invasive, and I assume most people feel the same. I know I do.
I also post regularly to my Meta page. I should probably invest in ads, either Facebook or Google, since they target audiences better than my sporadic efforts. If sales pick up, I will. It seems like a smarter use of money than most alternatives.
Signing Off
As you can probably tell, my days are fairly full. I listen to podcasts on YouTube while I work, and overall, I enjoy the rhythm of it. I do wish I had someone to bounce ideas off now and then, but working from home still beats re-entering the traditional workforce. Not that I could, realistically, at my age.
It’s now three o'clock, and Sally’s pestering me for attention. Time for walk number two. Catch you later!