WORK/LIFE BALANCE

“Be Careful What You Wish For?”

Reflections on a life left behind

For three years now, I’ve been unemployed. The only “work” I’ve done is on Medium. And, work it is. But that said, I happen to love it. It’s broadened my horizons creatively, and connected me to several amazing people who I know will be friends for the duration.

With that said, we all need to pay the bills. Money doesn’t fall from the heavens. It takes a concerted and ongoing effort to earn one’s keep. So, in order to make a few extra bucks — especially since my husband is retiring at the end of the year — I’ve applied to freelance gigs that I’ve believed would be a good fit.

When I was laid off from my thirteen-year gig at a marketing agency, I was repeatedly told that I was “eligible for rehire.” That never happened. For every job I applied to, even the less senior opportunities, I was turned down.

Finally, I realized that this particular chapter of my life was over and one day, I woke up and had a lightbulb moment: I was fucking glad it was over! I could do what I wanted when I wanted! I didn’t have to account for my time, every single day, nor answer to anyone but myself.

If I wanted to head outside for a walk, I could. Shop? No problem. Work out? Sure! I went for it.

No hair-on-fire deadlines, boring accounts, or endless meetings. I was through with all that. Or, so I thought.

A few weeks, ago, one of my work buddies who is still employed at my former agency, told me she’d thrown my hat in the ring for a full-time, freelance position that was opening up. A writer was going on pregnancy leave for four months and they needed someone who could hit the ground running, a particular attribute I’d been known for.

I thanked her but didn’t give it a second thought, as they’d turned me down so many times in the past.

As it turns out, they wanted me for the gig and I accepted. Initially, I was low-balled but was able to negotiate an hourly rate of $75. Now, I understand that for many people, that’s a pile of dough, but when you factor in my over thirty years of experience in the industry, I could have easily commanded a higher rate. Also, the client is billed a hell of a lot more for my time. But, I went for it as seventy-bucks an hour compared to nada per hour, is a big deal. Plus, they agreed to deduct taxes for me, eliminating a big headache at the end of the year.

Now, given that there are a lot of disgruntled people on this platform, I’m expecting some blowback for the above. Straight up: If you’ve never worked in the advertising and marketing industries, you have no idea how much toil is involved. You have to be prepared to give up life as you know it, so think before you shoot.

This particular gig is full-time, for four months, as I said. It hit me that this is a hell of a chunk out of my life. And the more they’re “immersing” me (stupid corporate speak), the more I realize that it’s not my life, any longer. I don’t use terms like “immersion meetings, “bandwidth,” and “onboard.”

Fucking hell. Why can’t we just talk to one another? You know, as people do.

Because I don’t want to download company applications on my personal computer, I was sent a MacBook Pro to use for the duration. But, because my eyesight is shit these days, I need a bigger screen so I can…you know…see the shit they’re sending me.

They wouldn’t spring for that so I purchased a 24-inch monitor, on my own. As well as a mouse and a special power stick for Macbooks. This is all out-of-pocket, but I’ll do my best to get it back.

I’ve also learned that, since my days as an Associate Creative Director, the shit has gotten a lot more technical. There are multiple log-ins and passwords for multiple applications, like those for file-sharing, for example. And, as this is a data-driven company, two-factor authentication is necessary for every fucking thing you do. I’m surprised I can take a pee without receiving a texted code, first.

A big thanks to all you assholes who hack into company databases.

I’ve spent the week in preparation for my “start date” on Monday, Of course, I had technical issues right off the bat. Couldn’t get “authenticated,” and other crap like that.

Yesterday, I had my “immersion meeting,” at the end of which I’m certain my eyes rolled back in my head. It’s a damn good thing I couldn’t get my video to work in Microsoft Teams. Yet, I appreciate the fact that the team was only trying to prepare me for what’s to come. They took time out of their busy day to do so, but I’m confused AF, people. After an onslaught of past work, current work and work still to be done — I’m not sure I want to do it!

I’m not quite sure what they don’t understand about a specific start date as I’ve been working.

Oh boy. I’m starting to whine and truly, that’s not what I’m about. I’m grateful for the chance to make a few bucks but, I’m beginning to get the sense that my past life, is just that. I’m not the same person I was, all those years when I loved the challenge of working on a new piece of business from a new client.

I’ve changed.

It’s the next morning and I just checked my new, work email. I’ve been bombarded with messages from Basecamp, Sharepoint, Microsoft Teams and other utilities. I haven’t yet had a chance to digest the sheer volume of work that is expected of me as every time I try to log into one of these apps, I need one of my three passwords along with an entry code texted to my phone.

Buddha, help me.

How does someone who is proud of their abilities admit that they’re ready to throw in the proverbial towel? Because, my friends, I am. There is no way in hell that I want to give up four months out of my life for this. Ideally, I should have had a month just for the “onboarding” process, alone.

“Waterboarding,” is more like it.

Let me give you an idea of the process, and this does not include all the attendant bullshit, like matrixes, and spreadsheets and decks upon decks filled with legal copy and offers per franchise location, etc.

I neglected to say that the client is a well-known purveyor of windows and doors. In fact, we get their unwanted crap in the mail, all the time.

So. The account team will post a creative brief for a new project. The creative team, i.e., myself, the Creative Director, and two art directors “brainstorm” ideas.

I am then left to my own devices to execute whatever concept we decide upon via brilliant, emotionally charged copy with a strong sales pitch.

Normally, turnaround times are ridiculously short. So I bust ass to write the direct mail piece, or the social ad or the email to give the Creative Director adequate time to review.

After it finally passes muster, the project goes to the account team for their review and approval.

Let me pause here and say that, during this process, I am lashed to my computer, because, should I have the temerity to take a twenty-minute break, that will be the exact time that I receive all the changes and am then required to make them and resubmit.

Once everything has been approved internally, the work than goes to the client for their approval — or not — and the whole shitstorm repeats itself.

Write. Wait. Redo. Wait. Write some more. Redo some more. Wait.

And everything is done via those applications that I mentioned earlier. There is no more emailing work to various teammates. That’s old school.

Now I am left with a dilemma. Do I admit that this is something I no longer want to do, or try to stick it out for a few days? I’m not sure which is the best course of action. With either, I’ll be letting people down.

With either, I’ll be letting myself down.

When it comes to writing copy that informs and engages, I’m rarely overwhelmed because I know what I’m capable of after all my years in this industry. But, there’s a big difference between hitting the ground running and landing on your head.

Too, and here’s the biggie, there’s the possibility that someone will say, “I guess she’s too old for the gig.”

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. But I am too old for bullshit. Simply put, I want to be able to carry through on a job without waiting to be authenticated multiple times by text messages on my phone.

Now, I have to figure out what I’m going to do, and say to these people if I pull the plug. I “officially” start on Monday.

Tell me, please. What would you do?

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her short films have screened at The Pan African Film Festival in Cannes (awarded “best short”), the Nashville Film Festival, the Honolulu Film Festival, the Los Angeles Film School, New Filmmakers New York, and New Filmmakers Los Angeles. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, “The Month We Fell Apart,” a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

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