Monday, December 4, 2017

On the incredible boredom of being slow

Not long ago, on one of those Facebook groups designed specifically for advertising freelancers, a member asked, "What's the longest slow period you've ever lived through?" Some of the answers were shocking.

Two months.

Six Months.

A year.

A year!

Dude, if you haven't worked a year in advertising, you're not in advertising.

In my 13 years as a freelancer, I've never experienced a fallow period of that magnitude. I'll find a local dry cleaner that needs to have their coupons spruced up before I suffer through anything that severe. However, in the interest of putting all my cards on the table, I have just concluded a fortnight of fucking doing nothing.

Phone calls were made. Phone calls were not returned.

Emails were sent. Emails were not replied to.

I did receive a text regarding the possibility of working on a high visibility Super Bowl spot. But like so many November false starts, it went nowhere.

If I'm being even more honest, the two weeks I'm speaking of could have been three weeks. The days in my den tend to blur together. A fuzzy haze of day drinking, excessive weight lifting, and if you know me on Facebook or Twitter, endless Trump railing. I have enough memes and rants to fill a book. But I won't torture anyone with another one of those ventures.

I can imagine my non-stop references to Precedent Shitgibbon can get quite boorish. On the other hand, I receive so many random emails (not job inquiries mind you) of people telling me how much they love the pointed political repartee.

Plus, as I've told my wife, I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to.

Thank god the slow period has ended. And unlike the weather in Southern California, where, when it rains it drizzles and then it stops drizzling and then it doesn't drizzle for another month, in the freelance world, when it rains it pours.

Now my calendar is booked solid.

The Bullett Rye will go back to to the liquor cabinet.

The two-a-day Body Beast workouts will get cut down to one.

And the Trump memes, on everything from his corrupt cabinet, to his hate tweets, to his disassembly of all that is cherished in this once great nation, not to mention his nefarious financial and political connections to the Russian Mafia, the Russian oligarchs and the serious chess-playing Russian government, will grind to a merciful halt.

Yeah, probably not.
I hate that fat, fishbrained fuckknuckle.

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