Today was sheer bliss.
My bosses were out on business and there was nobody around to give me manic last minute directions: “could you send the presentations over to the client?”, “did you double check your excel spreadsheets?” , “could you call X to give her a top line summary?”
And the kicker: “Could you do all these before you leave for the airport in 15 mins?”
It was pretty insane last week, all for that 2 hours with our client. 4 2am nights, many missed lunches, many many strained conversations with overworked colleagues….
So today it was payback time. Minimum work, maximum blog reading.
I have been reading financial blogs for a while. These blogs are never about the dollars and cents themselves, the stories are really about jealousy, disappointment, redemption and other powerful emotions. If capitalism is the zeitgeist of our times, money is the muse, seductress and winged horsemen all at once.
I was reading Tired but Happy‘s blog and her resolution of quitting her job to write full time. She has her Great American Novel dream, and she wants to write before she regrets it.
And since she might be having a cancer relapse, the “if not now, when?” question is even more pressing.
To an ex-writer idling in his corporate office, I was struck by her confession.
I know how she feels. I started as a writer, writing for magazines, newspapers and online sites. I also wrote television scripts as I ventured into film and TV.
But I soon found out, writing doesn’t pay very much. It paid in cool parties, meeting celebrities & an endless flow of champagne. Fabulous before 25 but somewhat sad after.
So I went into advertising, doing copy writing work first and then transitioning to the business side of account servicing initially, and account planning now.
So now, the only creative writing I do now is this blog (and even then it’s on a “once a month when I’m not brain dead from work” frequency).
I stopped writing scripts, articles or even copy for my advertisements.
So when you say “writing”, I think “client reports”. That’s quite sad.
Do I want to go back to my writing days? Not really, my priorities have evolved and I know writing is not the profession for me.
What I’m feeling is the warm ember of nostalgia; I do miss the days of creative wonderment & euphoria.