Vocational heaven

Today, I am absolutely giddy.

I am booked on the kind of job that I love. Without going into too many specifics or naming names, let me fill you in on some details.

For one thing the work is remote.

Meaning I can do it all from the comfort of my home, a home that is noticeably quieter and lonelier with the passing of my dog two weeks ago, but it's still my home. Which means I'm not hopscotching around an office looking for a quiet room where I can think.

As I have stated on many occasion -- though to no avail and with little impact on office planners -- a writer and/or an art director cannot and should not be expected to work at the Long Table of Mediocrity™.

Moreover, since they are the ones who actually make the product that funds the holding companies, they should be given offices. With windows. And a couch. And a small refrigerator for cold beverages.

But today I am in my comfortable Herman Miller chair with the ample lumbar support. Alexa is in the living room shuffling through the entire library of Mark Knopfler songs. And I have enough dark roasted Peet's coffee in the freezer to last me until the Dirt Nap or until Precedent Shitgibbon launches the ICBMs.

Now, here's the best part of this gig.

The client, and I won't say who, has given me a list of deliverables. As I might have mentioned a few weeks ago, sometimes the hardest part of my job is figuring out what the fuck people want. Manifestos, minifestos, directions, platforms, journey maps, and adlike objects. It's all so hazy and nebulous and frankly a waste of good fired synapses.

This client wants headlines.

Headlines for outdoor boards and out of home transit posters. This, by far, is my favorite thing to do. If I can risk being immodest, I've built an entire career on nothing more than the wiseass ability to crank out short, snappy and pointed headlines.

I knew I was destined for this vocation when, as a young man, I spotted this gem scrawled on a condom machine in a men's room tucked inside a Syracuse saloon.

I've only been budgeted for a short time on this job. And I haven't even been given my full day rate. 

But the truth is, I'm going to give this client more than they ever asked for. Because, there is the promise of more work down the road. And because, if I'm being honest, it's the kind of work I would gladly do for free.

Just don't tell anybody.