T'was the night before Christmas: 2021 Edition

It's been a couple years since I put up this post on Christmas Eve, and honestly I debated whether or not to do it at all this year.

However it is the season of giving, and damn it, if we know anything about me we know I'm a giver.

As you may have noticed, this year has been somewhat different than years past. But despite covid, my virus paranoia and my obsessive hand-washing, I actually do look forward to the coming year with uncharacteristic hope and optimism.

Plus I look fabulous in a mask, so there’s that.

So for the holidays, this year more than ever, give those you love the present that will mean the most. Hug them tight, and make sure they know how much they're loved.

Please enjoy this little diddy, revised for the times we find ourselves in.

I wish the very merriest Christmas to each and every one of you and yours. And a healthy, happy new year to us all.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all ‘round the world

A sense of great unease had spun and had swirled

The covid tests hung by the fireplace with care

In hopes a vaxxed Santa soon would be there

Families nestled with thoughts of spiked virus balls in their head

And visions of immunity and slowing the spread

They’d talk of frustration with shut downs and such

And the fact last year they hadn’t gone out very much

When out in the living room there rose such a clatter

I stopped rapid testing to see what was the matter

The door had been locked, did somebody hack it

What could possibly be making all of that racket

With a little old driver, so lively and quick

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name

Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!

We’ve had our boosters and the vaccine’s kicked in

We’re masked and we’re ready to spread Christmas joy

All ‘round the world tonight, to every girl and boy

This year we’re over the naughty and nice list

We’re going to all the children’s homes that exist

Parents are weary and children are tired

Of figuring out where and how and what is required

But we’re all in this together if we just hang on tight

And get over ourselves and keep doing what’s right

It can be beat, it really can be done

If we all do our part, each and every one

So while the spirit may not move us as it has in years past

Let’s look towards the day when finally at long last

This virus is behind us and life’s again what it should be

And the season is joyous for you and for me

Until that day comes let’s care for each other

And consider all our sisters and every brother

We’re all a piece of the puzzle, it’s really quite a feat

Together as one is the only way we’re complete

That’s not to say this years’ losses should be forgotten

By any measure, the last 365 days have been rotten

But we can pick ourselves up, we know how to do it

And despite how it looks, we will all get through it

Then he jumped in his sled with a sparkle in his eye

Gave a shout and a holler and flew towards the sky

He looked back and exclaimed, “remember at the end of every tunnel there’s light

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Agency side. Client side.

If you’ve followed this blog any amount of time, first let me say thank you and I understand your disappointment.

For those that have in fact been following, you may already be aware I've gone client side and am no longer on the agency side of the table. In case you're not familiar with my job-hopping journey (pausing to laugh for using the word journey), here's a quick little recap.

Near the end of 2019, I left—and by left I mean was laid off in a 12-person sweep—from my cushy, high-paid, high-powered, impressively titled, glamorous job introducing a new luxury car brand to a grateful nation from the tony beachside offices of a Korean owned advertising agency that shall go unnamed.

Innocean.

You might also know that afterwards, I enjoyed six bliss-filled, worry-free months of freelance, matinees, lunches with friends, bingeing Breaking Bad (again), cutting down the stack of books on my bedside table (not reading them, just cutting them down), playing with my dogs and spending daylight hours with the family.

But while I was living the good life and cashing the freelance checks, come to find out this nasty little virus was making its deadly way around the globe. And suddenly every headline in the trades was screaming about layoffs and furloughs, cutting freelance budgets and dwindling product inventory as infection rates were rising.

It was at that point I decided maybe the smart play would be to park myself somewhere for a while until this covid thing blew over. You know, one day just disappeared like a miracle. Fuck Trump.

Anyway I knew I wasn’t ready to go back to an agency. And even if I had been, they weren’t hiring.

Coincidentally about this time, a friend of a friend I used to work with who had gone to a tech company mostly known for their printers, scanners, projectors and sports personality spokesperson, told me they were looking for a writer. Long story short—if that’s even possible at this point—I went, I interviewed, I charmed, I brought the funny and I got the gig. I’m assuming my friend got the referral fee.

Normally this is where I'd make the joke (again) about not naming the company, then I'd name the company. Comedy gold. But when I signed on with this tech company, in the slew of onboarding paperwork there was something about mentioning them in social media or a blog, and what else I'd have to say if I dropped their name. I really should read these things more thoroughly. And while I usually like to gamble, my Jedi instincts are telling me not to do it today. But I've given you enough to go on—you can figure it out.

Alright, against my better judgement here's one more clue: their first product was the EP-101, and every product after was considered the son of the EP-101. What do you need, a roadmap?

Anyway, here's what I've learned since being on the client side: she’s a whole other country. It’s like the United States and England. You know you’re both speaking the same language, yet there are still different ways of saying the same thing that are unique to the territory.

Agency: “I know it’s 10am but we need it by noon.”
Client side: “We’re already past the deadline. I can only give you 5 more days.”

Agency: “I’m going shopping after lunch. I’ll be back later.”
Client side: “Lunch is from noon to 1PM. If you’re taking a late lunch please let your manager know.”

Agency: “This is pretty edgy. Let’s see what happens.”
Client side: “Can you make it duller? (not the stupidest thing ever said to me, but still deserving of a post all its own—coming soon)

Agency: “Where did you get those ripped jeans – they’re rad!”
Client side: “We’re pleased to announce jean Fridays!” Please see the employee manual for specifics.

Agency: The creative director will never go for that.
Client side: "Tell creative we're changing it to read like this."

There are things I miss about being in an agency creative department. The flexible hours, the money, dressing like a 17-year old, the money, being with sharp, funny, talented, creative people all day every day, the money, and the sense of all of us being in the foxhole together and working as a single entity—not unlike the borg in Star Trek. And of course, the money.

But client side at my company—look at me talking like a team player—does have its advantages. For one thing, my job isn't at the mercy of a creative director who had a client meeting go south. Or a client's spouse who thinks their nephew could do it better. It also helps that we're a financially solid global technology company that's done very well even in the time of covid. In fact, we were designated an essential company because many of our products are designed for home office use, and made the transition to working at that new Ikea desk under your bedroom window easier.

So the bottom line is I'm glad I made the change. And while I have the occasional feeling of buyer's remorse and the grass is always greener, I see myself here for a long time, doing some pretty nice work with our cool spokesperson and a group of genuinely nice people.

Right up until the next time someone tells me to make it duller.