Past Tense

I used to be an awesome blogger.

1) My job gave me fodder every day.
I read and answered viewer mail @ Lifetime Television. Email, snail mail, voicemail, prison mail - you name it I read it. Disturbing doesn't even begin to cover it. The topics were varied but crazy was always present. Never mind the persistent question: Have you no other way to better pass the time?

2) I lived in the most exciting city ever.
NYC. London is next. But nothing beats NYC. Have a different opinion? Don't care. This is about me.

3) I started a new relationship with another fellow blogger.
We out-cuted each other. We talked about each other. The blogosphere knew I was getting engaged before I did. We played off each other and our ever-growing blog rolls. Being long-distance helped because surely we wouldn't blog and then stare at each other over the tops of our laptops.

Here's why I no longer am:

1) My job is crazy and not without some fodder. But since the blogosphere is about 10X the size it was 5 years ago I have to watch it. No need getting fired over a silly post. Also, see below about rock & a hard place. That's exhausting and creative sucking. I can barely go home and stare blindly at TV nevermind crafting a great post.

2) I live in Raleigh, NC. Um, pretty place, nice people. Exciting? Not so much. However, it is now officially a blue state as of yesterday. Did I mention slow? Yeah we're a bit slow.

3) I married my fellow blogger. And now he has found about 15 other creative things to do with his time. Bless him, he has such ADD. We are DINKS. And while we love it, my husband stares longingly at the ovarian spot and wishes fervently for babies. Sigh. If only he could carry them too.

I started blogging to write better. Or is it gooder?
Regardless, once I slowed so did my writing funny.

Here's my pledge: I need to do this at least 3 times a week.

So Internet- I need to do this 3X a week.
Please keep me honest oh tubes of information.

Malaise

The title of this blog used to be something like: Bleach Cocktails for Dinner. Something that has to with drinking bleach or some such nonsense. I was pretty angry and unhappy with my job. Come to think of it, that hasn't necessarily changed. But I am more in the "resigned" column than angry column. Except when I am PMSing. Then all bets are off.

The director I reference here quit recently and we hired a new guy. The jury is still out on the new guy. But I haven't felt anything soul-crushing since old douche director left so I didn't bother finishing this one out.

With the title of this little-known blog, it is not shocking that I seem to be in a constant state of unhappiness. It varies of course, some days are just fine while other's possess a soul-crushing, I-need-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-here sentiment.

Today is one of those days.

I am still reeling from the little tete-a-tete I had with my account director who continually needs to ask me if " [I] want to be here" and "why do I want to be here." Frankly why the fact that I show up, foster good relationships with my clients and work my ass off is not proof enough blows my mind. I get the distinct feeling that it is not anything I do but rather the account director doing a bit of projecting. He doesn't want me on his team; he doesn't want me here; he doesn't think I am good enough. And no, this isn't an all out whine of nobody likes me. Quite the contrary, most people I work with have no issue with me or my job performance.

Are you passionate about this business?

There's an epidemic at my workplace. Apparently a dearth of people who "are passionate about advertising." For some reason, I have been pegged as being one of the infected.
If I get asked one more time - "Do you want to be here?" "Why would you do this when you can make more money doing something else?" "Do you love advertising?" I may, in fact, throw myself in front of the bus.

Why showing up and doing your job WELL while fostering client relationships is not a clear sign of "I want to be here" I will never know. (that's a yummy sentence isn't it?)

Oh and you know what I am passionate about?
Benefits.

I am passionate about benefits. Dental, Optical and Medical really make me tick.

Unfinished #1 FYRP: Little White Lies

(For your reading pleasure. What? I made up my own acronym. Get used it.)

Here's the question of the moment: How wrong is a nontruth?

Thursday dawned cold, rainy and generally blech. Taking out the snooze button like a terrorist does nothing to brighten the day, even though it's well past the waking hour.

A cup of coffee or... three. And a little time with the DVR took up most of the morning.

Oh right, work.

Shit.

857 - not dressed; not showered
900- not dressed; dripping wet
902 - jeans, thermal tee (1.5 sizes too big) blue hoodie. Rocking the dirty teenager look.

905 - hair? ehhhh...eff it.

907 - do I call or email?

910 - can I lie better in a call or an email? Email it is.

912 - on the way to work YAY!

913 - gas light comes on; every single gas station could not be more out of the way

914 - longest train EVER by my house; shut off car so as not to idle and waste 2 Tbsp of gas

925 - gas station completely full

945 - have made it to work without incident

Boss: "I've been calling you."

Me: "I ran out of gas on the way to work! Can you believe it?"

Despite the title, I don't drink bleach.
Clearly.
However, it beckons during those moments of dingy gray. They don't happen often and are quite fleeting. Normally, those moments are tied to something work related or high-pitched/nails-down-the-chalkboard related.
Those two instances are not mutually exclusive.
At least, not in advertising. Well not in any job really.

Regardless, this particular moment hit sometime this weekend.
So here I am.
Searching for a free therapy session - to me by me.

Let's lie on the couch shall we?

Advertising

A new and exciting world.
Or not.