on dream jobs & derailment

Generally, I’m one of those people who would rather dig out my own kidney with a spork than do personal stuff on company time, especially blogging. But as I’m paid to write, sometimes I have to write to get through a block. This, my precious readers, is one of those times, so please bear with me as I write through the pain.

As I write, all the synapses in my brain are firing promptly. However, they’re not firing with great accuracy, or with any accuracy at all, really. See, I need them to be firing over management training, which is what I’m trying to write about (for what will be my first ever print ads, thank you very much). But they just want to talk to you, dear readers, and tell you how they’re doing and how much they’ve missed you.

Here goes.

I greatly apologize to the entire world, but to you most, dear ones, for having dropped off the radar. Seven weeks ago Monday, I started working here, at one of my dream shops—one of every creative’s dream shops. And not only is it one of the top ad agencies in the whole wide world, but as a freelancer, I constantly have to prove myself in order to be offered a real, full-time job at one of the top ad agencies in the whole wide world.

So there you have it. I’m not ignoring you. I’m not trying NOT to keep up with all of you through your blogs. I’m just trying to get through daily writer’s block and impress some of the hardest people in my industry to impress. I’ll do my best to poke my head up more often so the whack-a-fifi game is actually fun. Perhaps I’ll even invite some guest bloggers onto the scene.

In the meantime, enjoy my birthday tomorrow in your own way. You know where to mail your sacrificial souls.