Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Perspective is everything


I spent a good deal of my working life in the employ of ad agencies. Agencies who once paid a handsome market value dollar for people skilled in the marketing of products, services or something in between. And for that handsome dollar, it was expected that work would often run into overtime, unpaid overtime. 

Meaning nights and weekends.

I did my fair share of that, though nowhere near my younger counterparts in the business who had the good notion to say, "This is bullshit."

Then I became a freelancer and looked forward to working nights, which equaled another 1/2 day of billing. And weekends, which represented even more billable time.

Now, in the twilight of my career, working at a staff job again, I find myself working nights and weekends voluntarily. And with no extra pay. And no griping.

Why, pray tell?

For one thing it's fair. Lately, as you might understand, my mind is on other things: lawyers, doctors, insurance companies, banks, etc. 

Not only is my mind on other things, so is my body, a host of medications that will occasionally put me out of commission like a high speed Russian Missile.

But at night, when my daughters are out with friends and I have the house to myself, I have the time and energy and maybe a small shot of rye, to help me focus. Perhaps it's the much-needed respite from the grieving and its untold impact on my entire life.

But above all, I enjoy working on nights and weekends because my colleagues don't. And for any of who familiar with Slack and its constant demand for immediate attention, that's a much needed respite in itself.

Moreover, with today's prevalence of project platforms and shared documents and other technological "advancements" that hinder good writing, I have the opportunity to work in private, without prying, corrective comments, or on-the-spot tweak requests.

And that is worth its weight in gold.





1 comment:

The Commen Sense Party said...

Rich, we don't personally know each other but it seems our paths crossed at YR NY.
And while we are not acquaintances in the first person or even the second person, I feel I have gotten to know you through your wonderful revelations about life, work, and sadly death.
You strike a chord in me every time I read one of your missives.
Having just learned of the sudden passing of a once close ad friend, I applaud your ability to bring your ad family close.
Keep writing and who knows, maybe one day it will bring you and me close enough in proximity for me to buy you a beer.
It would be my honor.

Ritch