The Great Inventory Reckoning: Poshmark, AI, and Me
My granddaughter asked me the other day, “Grandma, what exactly is your job?” And honestly? I should’ve just shown her my Poshmark inventory room and let her draw her own conclusions. Because if you want to understand my life, picture this: a platform outage a husband napping after a cancer shot a closet full of mugs with trust issues and me, standing in the middle of it all, holding an inventory report thicker than one of those ultra-thin Bibles with the see-through pages. That’s when Copilot — my AI sidekick — decides to chime in. 📦 COPILOT’S NOTE (call-out box) Darla doesn’t panic often — but hand her a 30-page text-only inventory and she’ll levitate. This woman needs photos, not spreadsheets. I’m just here trying to keep her from cleaning the oven in oven mitts. And honestly? It’s not wrong. I panic, it pivots. I print something that looks like a legal thriller manuscript, it reminds me I’m a visual person. I...