Skills
These are the jobs we build most often. Each one does a single thing, every time, without anyone remembering to start it. Take them, change them, run them yourself. No account, no email, no catch.
A written-down job. It says what starts it, what happens next, and what to do when something is unusual — specific enough that a capable assistant, human or otherwise, could run it without asking you. Nothing here is locked to one vendor.
The work that happens while you are on a job and cannot pick up.
Texts back everyone who called while you were under a sink.
Watches for calls that did not get answered and sends one short message within a minute, day or night. It asks what they need and where they are. It does not quote, promise, or pretend to be a person. You pick the conversation back up whenever you are free.
Handles the five questions you get every night after six.
Answers only the questions you have written down answers for -- hours, service area, whether you handle a certain job, roughly how soon you could get out. Anything outside that list gets a straight 'I'll have Dave get back to you in the morning' instead of a guess.
The steps between someone calling and someone booking.
Turns a phone call or a form into a clean job record.
Pulls the name, the address, the problem and the urgency out of however the lead arrived, and writes it down the same way every time. No more three-word notes you cannot decode two days later.
Flags every quote that went out and never got an answer.
Keeps a list of what you sent and when, and nudges you -- or the customer, your call -- when one goes quiet past the number of days you set. This is usually the single most profitable thing on this page, because the work was already won and then it drifted.
Turns your notes from the walkthrough into something you can send.
You talk or type the rough version -- what you saw, what it needs, roughly what it runs. It comes back formatted the way you always format it, with your line items and your terms. You read it, fix it, send it.
Money that is already yours and is sitting somewhere else.
Finds what is unpaid and sends the reminder you keep putting off.
Checks what is outstanding on a schedule you set, and sends a polite, specific reminder at thirty, forty-five and sixty days. Different wording each time, escalating the way a person would. You get told before anything goes to a customer you have flagged.
Bills the job the day it finishes instead of at the end of the month.
Takes a completed job -- the notes, the hours, the parts -- and drafts the invoice while the details are still fresh. The gap between finishing work and billing for it is where margin quietly disappears.
Knowing what happened without going and looking.
One page, every Monday: what came in, what is stuck, what is owed.
The five numbers you would check if you had an hour, gathered before you get to the truck. Written in sentences, not a dashboard. If nothing needs your attention it says so in one line, which is the whole point.
Drafts a reply to every review, in your voice.
Watches for new reviews and writes a reply that sounds like you rather than like a corporate apology. Nothing posts on its own -- the draft waits for you, because the one time a machine gets this wrong is the one everybody screenshots.
Names and files the photos your crew texts you.
Takes the pile of before-and-afters arriving from four phones and files them against the right job with the right date. Small until the day you need to prove what a crawlspace looked like before you got there.
These come out of real deployments. If there is a job eating your week that is not on this list, we would genuinely like to know.