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.
