Steve for Robbins here.

Welcome to the Get It Done Guys quick and dirty tips to work less and do more.

My imaginary but oh so real friend Bernice asks,

How do I prepare to give my opinion?

I show up with my thoughts, but people don't listen.

Let's help Bernice by revisiting the scene of the crime.

The power of you is a terrible name for a show. Bernice was livid. She waddled furiously into the

room, tossing the proposal onto the table. Rosebud lips pursed in annoyance. I am an enlightened

being. Enlightened beings understand we are all one.

There is no me.

There is no you.

The power of you discriminates against we who have found enlightenment.

She assumes her personal power posture, glaring at the rest of the team,

spearing the proposal beneath her left index finger, right hand, planted

firmly on her—uh—with Bernice, it's kind of hard to tell. I think it's her hip.

We were late. There was no time for drama. Bernice, I said. That's you, E-W-E. This show is about a

talking sheep with superpowers who fights crime while balancing career and family.

If Bernice had read the manuscript instead of complaining about it, she would have known that.

Herumph, she declared, sat down, and busied herself in her paperwork.

Melvin leaned over and whispered a bit too loudly,

I'll bet you feel sheepish.

The look she gave him could have melted steel.

...