Fishing for rejection

To be a successful freelancer (16 years now) is to be a shark. One must always be moving forward. Feeding on anything that moves. And sending out overdue invoice notices.

To that end, I do a lot of hunting on linkedin and the various associated employment boards.

Consequently I get a panoply of job listings in my feed and my already stuffed mailbox. By the way, if someone wanted to make a shit ton of money they would figure out a simple way to unsubscribe to all these awful, poorly laid out, immediately trashed political emails. And also by the way, Tulsi Gabbard can go back to the dacha from which she came.

Last week for instance, I was alerted to the fact that a day spa in Orange County was looking for a Masseuse Therapist. It was only paying $21/hour. And, as I mentioned, it was in Fountain Valley behind the Orange Curtain. Years ago, while working at Y&R/Irvine, I did the daily 405 commute thank you very much. It almost killed me. And others as well.

And as I used to tell my wife, "I was one sig alert from going on a mass rampage."  

I don't know what would be worse for me, getting thrown in the klink for my uncontrollable road rage or working in Orange County.

Mind you these job boards (Glassdoor, Indeed, Neuvoo) also carry links to legitimate full time job opportunities in my chosen field, advertising.

And though most of these openings pay half of what I was making as a staff Group Creative Director 16 years ago and offer half or none of the benefits I once enjoyed (an office would be nice), I like to throw my name in the hopper.

Why do I engage in such a hopeless and oft-times frustrating experience?

Why do I toy with Illuminati and Nigerian scammers?

Why do I fight with Trumpsters online in the hope that one day I can, through the clear and indisputable presentation of the facts, get them to see the not-so-orange light?

I suppose it's because I have a sado-masochistic streak. A guilt-induced need for self-flagellation.

"Bad Rich. You've been a bad boy Rich. Now go sit in the corner and wait patiently for the Ad Industry to come to its senses."

Mostly, I do it to amuse myself. 

Let's face it, I don't want a staff gig. I don't want a seat at the Long Table of Mediocrity™. Nor do I want to spend my time conceiving, and fighting for, FFDKK's, Frivolous Fuckwadian Digital Knick Knacks™.

So when some startup in El Segundo actually sent me a rejection letter, in essence stating that my 30 plus years as a copywriter/creative director wasn't what they were looking for, I could only laugh.

I'm still laughing.