“If you don’t like my content, no one is forcing you to stay. This isn’t my job job, I post on my account for a fun chill. So please be chill!”

There were days when the stress of her job got Aliza Firestein down, but today was not one of those days.

She was idling, car in park. Her usual spot under the cover of a tree-canopied home four houses before her own was just out of sight of the tiny faces pressed against the living room bay window. Five quiet minutes before the dinner-bedtime whirlwind was so necessary.

She looked down at her phone, opened to her DMs. These kinds of requests were starting to come in more, now that she’d passed the 30k mark.

@st1994:  Sorry to bother you, but could you do me a huge favor and post this link for my sis? She loves your page… She’s a single mother to three adorable boys and one of her kids is dealing with a very expensive medical issue that insurance won’t cover. No pressure at all but it would be such a chesed!

The Chesed Fund link was posted too, and in the thumbnail that popped up, Aliza could see the sweet bloated face of a toddler on too many medications. The caption said, Chaim Deserves a Normal Childhood. There were only $752 raised, out of $15,000. How sad. Least she could do.

Aliza took a screenshot of the message and copied the link. She then clicked her own avatar to open Instagram stories and selected the image from her camera roll. She posted it with the link and typed in some text. A follower asked me to post, and I couldn’t say no to this cute face. If you have some maaser money, please donate!

Easy. TYH for making giving tzedakah so much more convenient these days.

The dashboard clock was showing another few minutes before duty called, so she sent her mother-in-law her usual Wednesday afternoon text to touch base about bringing over a side of salmon for the weekly Shalosh Seudos in her house. Two more minutes to shuffle through DMs before she really had to go in.

And then… classic.

There were days when people’s thoughtless abrasiveness made Aliza Firestein want to scream.

How r u posting this pic of ur kids?? Maybe if you paid attention to them they wouldn’t make such a huge mess in their playroom. No offense but would never hire u to organize my house if ur house is a wreck!

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a screenshot of this one, too, then pulled the image up in her story drafts. The harsh words looked up at her. You’re welcome, she thought ruefully as she scribbled over the account name to hide any identifiers. She added text across the screen: Trolls, do we need to have a talk? She posted it, waited a beat, then propped her phone on the dash and opened her camera. No filter needed in the complimentary late afternoon light.

“Hi, guys,” trilled Aliza in her signature sarcastic, self-deprecating, we’re-all-in-on-the-joke tone. “Just popping on here for a second to say I feel like lately my DMs have been all over the place. If you’re new here, let me just tell you, I am good at home organizing. Part of what makes me so amazing is the fact that my house gets just as messy as yours does, but with my system it also gets unmessy, and honestly, IG-ready, with less than 10 minutes of straightening up a day. I’m not fake, you guys. I have real kids, you’ve seen them. Kids are allowed to make messes. My kids do it all the time. You know why it doesn’t stress me out? Because we have systems. Anyway, to all the people who woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, I totally feel you. Sorry you’re having a bad day. Here’s a thought: if you don’t like my content, no one is forcing you to stay. This isn’t my job job, I post on my account for a fun chill. So please be chill!”

She finished with a carefree laugh.