The first of who knows how many installments on tap dancing into the World Wide Web of employment.
Until two weeks ago, I had been a bona fide employee once in my fifteen years of adult life. That was ten years ago, and after the first six months I brought forks to work with me to scoop my eyes out—metaphorically speaking. Luckily, I was laid off after a year and experienced the joy of unemployment checks and food stamps. Those six months of public support gave me the time to jump-start my career as a full-time artist.
So for the last ten years, I’ve either been my own boss and other people’s boss or a freelance writer, bopping around from company to company. Those short-term gigs made it easy to show my best self, avoid office politics, and still feel totally autonomous. Even my mother, who had once claimed she would NEVER want to hire me, began to say, what a great employee you are, my lovely, respectful, understanding, good listening, hard working daughter.
Her adjectives may have been right on☺, but her misappropriation of the word employee in relation to moi boosted my confidence to a high-peaked mountain where it had no business enjoying the view.
As soon as I began freelancing for my new employer, an interactive ad agency in the Philly ‘burbs, I knew I wanted to work there full-time—despite the commute. And when they made me an offer, I was so enthused, I accepted immediately without hesitation or negotiation.
I adore my new job. I get paid to play with words. I interact with creative, talented, and engaging people all day. I can wear jeans and open-toed shoes. The benefits are a profound plus. My boss is super-cool, supportive, and really good at what he does. The whir of the regional rail commute is perfectly calming for meditating or reading. It is a match made in advertising heaven.
But…
After a few days, I realized I have a lot of learning to do to be the “great employee” my mother saw in me. Making the switch from the self-autocracy of self-employment to the semi-democracy of employment is a lot harder than I expected. And although I try to leave my work at the office, I can’t help but come home thinking—I’m an official office failure. Rather than the Copy Champion, an aggrandizing title bestowed upon me from a generous co-worker, I feel more like the Copy Champignon, a classy fungus poking its dirty head in uninvited places.
The world of freelance is, well, free. Feast or famine, it’s a glorious ride. But it’s actually, for a person like me, a very safe one. I’m good at running my own world, and I like working from home. Putting myself into this new 5-day-a-week work environment is a challenge that feels like the first day of high school. You go in with all the right intentions of being a moderate superstar, whether it’s the kind with purple lop-sided hair (in my case) or prom queen (definitely not in my case), but you end up eating your PB&J in the furthest corner of the lunch room, realizing you’re still the same reject from middle school.
When I feel like I stink at something—like marriage or cooking Thai food—I buy a book or two or three to help me find my way. While other people may turn to God, I turn to words. Words are important to me, and books are my spiritual guides.
While I haven’t tried my hand at a second marriage, I have learned how to make a mean Thai curry. I knew going into my cooking adventures, I had the culinary wherewithal in me, but I needed the right knowledge and the time to practice it.
Just because we freelancers may not know how the hell to play the office game today, it doesn’t mean we can’t learn to become an integral ingredient in the jobholder stew while enjoying the tasty contributions of the other perky ingredients.
I love stew almost as much as words. And my new job’s concoction is definitely one I want to be a part of. Being a copywriter is not high art, but as far as paying professions in the US go, it's probably as close as I'll get. While I may not be making the world a better place from 9-5, it feels good to be valued with a living wage.
Having a full-time job is a major relief. Not only do I know exactly what amount and when my next paycheck is due, I've found a career that inspires me, and a new challenge that will make me a better person. All this may sound fluffy and gooey, but it’s as solid as the truth. And as long as I'm not writing ad campaigns for the next George W. Bush, I can feel proud of the work I'm doing.
But I'd like to feel confident that I'm making a contribution beyond good writing to the company that's making my life better.
So back to the books…I just ordered three from Amazon: Watercooler Wisdom: How Smart People Prosper in the Face of Conflict, Pressure, & Change; The 12 Bad Habits That Hold Good People Back; and How to Be the Employee Your Company Can't Live Without: 18 Ways to Become Indispensable. I plan on grilling my mother for superstar-employee-tips, practicing what I learn, and sharing a few stories now and again on this blog.
Word of the Day
nickelodeon | |
Definition: | A cabinet containing an automatic record player; records are played by inserting a coin. |
Synonyms: | jukebox |
Word of the Day
provided by The Free Dictionary
Twittering Mel
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