Teach your chief of staff who you are

Most AI tools don't know you. Not your prices, not your rules, not the way you write. So you get this: a polite guess. They learn you slowly, one correction at a time. What if you could skip all that, and have it know your business, what you like and what you don't, from the very first day? Same bot. Same question. Her prices, her timeline, her sign-off. She explained herself once, to her chief of staff. Here's how. You've explained your business to an AI tool before. Probably this morning. What you sell, what you charge, how you like things written, and the rule you keep repeating. Then a new chat, and you explain it all again. Today Maya does it once. She asks the AI tools she already uses to write down what they know about her, hands it all to Ember, her chief of staff, and Ember merges it, asks about the gaps, and writes an About Me for her whole team. Then we test it on bots she's never briefed. Let's go. Step one. Maya already uses two AI tools: one she writes with, one she plans with. Each knows a slice of her. She gives both the same prompt: write down everything you know about me. Say what I told you and what you only guessed. Date it. Flag what's probably out of date. And leave out passwords, account numbers and other people's private details. Eight sections, from how she wants work done to five questions it would still ask her. Back comes the first export, in one block. Her rules, in her own words. Three lines of how she really talks. If a tool says to continue, say continue, and copy every part. Same prompt in the planning tool. Copy. And here's the catch. The first tool still has her one-page site at nineteen hundred dollars, January's price. This one has October's: twenty-two hundred. Two tools, two different versions of Maya. Step two. In Murage, she opens Ember, her chief of staff, from the sidebar. She pastes the second prompt, and both exports under it, each with a label. Merge them. Trust what I said over what you guessed, and newer over older. Ask me what you can't settle. And save it, so the whole team can use it. And don't keep passwords, account numbers or anyone else's private details, even if they're in there. Send. This one takes a while, so we'll skip ahead. Before Ember saves a file, it asks. Allow once: this one save, nothing more. One more of those, and it's done. One picture of Maya, grouped the way her exports were, repeats gone. What she sells, to whom, at what prices. Her rules. Her voice. What's on right now. All of it shown to her, so she can fix anything that's wrong. The two tools disagreed on a timeline and on a price. Her rule sits at the top: what she said beats a guess, and newer beats older. So it keeps four to eight weeks, and October's twenty-two hundred dollars. Step three. A few things it couldn't settle, so it asks instead of guessing. Does she still do hourly consulting? And is the studio still moving to East Austin? She answers in one line. Consulting stopped in June, drop it. The move's off. Everything else is right. Done. Two stale facts gone, before any bot could quote them to a client. Step four: the About Me, the page every bot opens with before any job. The third prompt asks for it under four thousand characters: who she is, her business and prices, how she wants work done, how she writes, and what matters now. Before it saves, it asks. Allow once. And here it is: plain sentences, no fluff, and nothing in it she'd have to say again. She copies it, and pastes it into Settings, under About me. The counter says two thousand, six hundred and forty-eight of four thousand. Save. From now on, every bot on her team starts from that. Not a chat it has to dig up. Not a thing she has to say again. Step five. Don't take its word for it. Byline is the writer bot on Maya's team, and she's never briefed it. Before step two, she gave it a small test. This is what came back. No prices in memory, so it guessed a range and a timeline, and signed off "Best, Maya". Now a fresh chat, and the exact same ask. No prices. No rules. Nothing else. Her October prices, not the old ones. Four to eight weeks, said up front, her rule. Short, because she said short. No "hope this finds you well", because she banned it. And her sign-off. All of it from the About Me and what Ember saved. Same ask, same bot. The only thing that changed is what her team knows. One more bot, to be sure. Canvas, her design bot, gets one line: make Dana a one-page quote. It asks before it saves the file, she says Allow once, and out comes a finished quote. Her studio, her address, twenty-two hundred dollars, half up front, four to eight weeks, valid for thirty days. Her terms. Nobody typed them. Now you. Open the AI tool you use most and run the first prompt. You'll see what it knows about you, and what it has wrong. Run it in the others too. Give every export to Ember with the second prompt, answer its questions, and let it write your About Me. Then hand a bot you've never briefed one small job, and compare. All three prompts are in the guide below, plus an optional fourth. So that's how to teach your chief of staff who you are. Export what your AI tools know about you. Hand it to Ember. Settle the gaps, and save the About Me every bot reads first. You explain yourself once. Next time, her team puts it to work: chasing every open quote. See you there. Whatever you run, a studio, a practice or a shop, you explain yourself once, and every bot on your team knows you: your prices, your rules, your voice. Real work, finished. By an AI team you never had to hire. Let Murage handle it. Get started now.