managingtheworkflow

The Feast, the Famine, and Everything Between

I find that life is full of trends. You settle into a routine, and everything seems to repeat itself over and over. Then, suddenly, the schedule changes. It's abrupt, confusing, and sometimes challenging. But we adapt. We adjust. Eventually, the new routine becomes the normal one.

And I know this doesn't just apply to little old me.

In December of 2020, I submitted bids for 11 video projects. Being pragmatic, I figured if I was lucky, I'd land two to four of them.

Imagine my excitement when I found out I had won all eleven.

The Vaupel Video Christmas party was looking pretty good.

Then reality set in.

Every one of those projects was due at roughly the same time; the end of April. That might sound like plenty of time, but here's the catch: none of them actually started until February. The work required travel across multiple cities and states, and as a sole proprietor, every day I'm on the road is a day I'm not sitting at my editing desk.

With a lot of planning, communication, late nights, and honestly, a little luck, every project was delivered on time. The clients were thrilled, and that success led to even more opportunities.

Life was good.

The funny thing is, that has pretty much been the routine ever since.

It's either feast or famine.

When things are slow, they are slooooooooooow. You start wondering if your email notification will ever make a sound again.

Then the pendulum swings.

Suddenly I'm juggling multiple productions, editing several projects, planning shoots, answering emails, and trying to remember which notebook contains which idea. It can feel like I'm drowning.

And I sincerely mean this; I am not complaining.

It's simply the nature of this industry. For whatever reason, everyone decides they need a video, graphic, animation, or creative project at almost exactly the same time. And I love that I'm still the person they call.

I'm grateful for the work because it has forced me to grow.

I've learned how to budget; not just money, but time. I've become a much better project manager (a huge shoutout to my wife, who has been my mentor in that department). I've learned how to work efficiently from hotel rooms and airports. I've lost count of the number of rough cuts I've finished while traveling.

The summer of 2026 has been no exception. There are so many exciting projects happening that it's sometimes hard to stay focused on the one in front of me because I'm already excited about the next one waiting in line.

I'm sure someone is asking, "If you're this busy, how do you have time to write a blog?"

Fair question.

First, since I started blogging regularly, traffic to my website has steadily increased. I'm not saying those two things are directly connected, but I'm always looking for ways to reach new clients. Writing has become part of my job.

Second—and maybe more importantly—I need the mental break.

My brain has been in work mode almost nonstop since February. It refuses to shut off. I've gone through more field notebooks than I can count.

Sidebar: Most creative people carry a notebook. When inspiration strikes, we write it down before it disappears. My current notebook is filled with storyboards, animation ideas, camera shots, cutaway concepts, and random notes that probably only make sense to me.

Writing lets my brain shift gears.

It reminds me that the email can wait a few minutes. The next project can wait until the current one is finished. Coffee is still not a food group.

Most importantly, it reminds me what being busy actually means.

It means people continue to trust me with their stories.

It means that nearly ten years into this adventure, I'm still making a living doing work I genuinely love.

And perhaps the most rewarding part is seeing how much my work has evolved.

That's probably an entirely different blog post, but I'm proud that every year I get a little better. I've worked hard to avoid becoming an assembly line where every video looks and feels exactly the same. Trust me, that's a very real temptation in creative work, and it's something I've intentionally tried to avoid.

One of the unexpected joys this year has been the number of new clients.

Each project introduces me to an industry I know almost nothing about. I get to ask questions, learn how their work impacts other people, and discover why they're passionate about what they do.

That might be my favorite part of this job.

Every client teaches me something new.

So yes, the schedule is overwhelming at times. The days are long, the notebooks are full, and the coffee pot works overtime.

But I wouldn't trade it.

Now... if I could just convince everyone to spread those projects evenly across all twelve months instead of the same four, we'd really be onto something.