A friend of mine recently diagnosed with depression once told me, “It’s such a relief. All this time I thought I was just lazy!”
That pretty much sums up my adult work experience. This week marks an entire year spent with my current employer. It’s the longest I’ve ever stayed at one job since I was an RA in college. Let’s face it, we all know that’s not so much a job as it is a made-for-TV movie opportunity to stick your nose in everybody’s business and play around with construction paper.
My work history makes me feel like a flake. But like my friend, there was this epiphany not so long ago in which the clouds parted and a soft voice like cotton candy whispered, “You don’t suck. Those jobs did.”
Boy, did they.
Ever wanna poison a child that’s not your own? It’s such a dangerous trip to take mentally. The schools I was in are not the place for me. I’d sooner be a spokesmodel/research subject at National Rectal Health Association meetings than go back to calmly explaining to kids why they shouldn’t hit each other, masturbate in class, or steal my shit.
Between teaching and my current job, I also had a stint working in marketing for one of the worst bosses you could ever imagine. She’d make an IRS agent look not just generous, but personable, too.
It’s been one year downtown in the Financial District, and my role has changed a lot. My company has changed a lot in the last 12 months, and I’m glad it pulled me along with it. Even when it was by the ear. I was hired to be an editor, poring over charts and footnotes all the live long day. Then I got a new position in another department as a writer. I interview “marketing leaders,” the brains behind those ads you see online or the viral video everyone is linking on Facebook. Then I write up some stuff, edit it, and sometimes it becomes an awkward podcast.
Since I was a kid, I thought I’d be really great in advertising. It plays up insecure human conditions, treats people like morons, and is inherently evil. I know this. Plus, I like puns. I’m a shoo-in.
I don’t think I’d really ever do it unless I was copywriting for a brand in line with my values, like Frito-Lay.
Last week, I interviewed the big enchilada of an ad agency that does campaigns for some well-known skincare products, including those blackhead-removing pore strips.
*Did you know there’s a tummy-turning array of Youtube videos of people popping pimples, picking boils, and playing Pin the Tail on the Pustule? I could watch them all night long. It’s a sebaceous trainwreck - my eyes cannot look away. I’d link them, but you might never forgive me. Do look them up yourself!
Back to my story: At the end of the conversation with the ad bigwig, I mention that I have an idea for a skincare campaign that’s funny and human and maybe a little bit gross. I didn’t really go into it. We joked a few more minutes. He followed up with some information for the interview and told me he’d love to talk about my campaign idea soon.
Opportunity sometimes knocks very softly, and in this case, I’m my freakin’ neighbor. Whenever I have a spare minute, I’m practicing my pitch. And wondering if I should call them “zits” or “pimples.”
Pimple, I’d say pimple. It gives a better visual. If it’s targeted to women, definitely pimple. It’s just gross-er!
Yeah. “Zit” sounds silly.