The One About The Job

So I have a job at long last. I've had it for the last three months. It would be fair to say that it really is nothing like I expected it would be. I love that line. It is so loaded. It could be the statement of an ecstatic copywriter who has been lucky enough to find her niche in the World of Work in the first attempt, or it could be the gripe of a disillusioned copywriter who finds that the World of Work has placed her in its very dregs.

Don't worry, I'm somewhere in between. I'm not likely to die of too much happiness or become an embittered, cantankerous old lady who lives with a parrot with a charming disposition anytime soon.

I work at an event management company where I'm supposed to supply out-of-the-box event ideas for mostly corporate clients and write the copy that these events entail (on brochures, leaflets, invitations etc.). Theoretically, I'm supposed to be writing a brochure on LPG right now. But I'm blogging instead. One needs to give oneself some indulgence if one is to write well. I mean, it's gas.

Anyhow, I've learned some valuable lessons in the last three months. One is that mindblocks are very pesky things, and they have lousy timing. Secondly, levels of ignorance are bound to be higher once you step out of your hallowed university campus, so that shouldn't surprise you. Third, if you have some level of talent as a masseuse and you give better than average back rubs, then you shouldn't make it too obvious. Every organization has its share of hairy men waiting for a back rub, and your creativity will be sorely tested when you have too talk your way out of these touchy situations. Ooh, I punned! Fourth, most people will not understand your need to talk aloud to yourself, and they will react by smiling indulgently and giving you their best "She's SUCH A Child" look. Next, people say some shockingly inappropriate and offensive things sometimes. Things like "I like to break these 'strong' women". When you simmer down, you'll realize that the bloke has a daughter, who shall grow up someday. And then you smile slowly, sure in the knowledge that life will teach him. Finally, you will sorely miss the time when your friends were the people that you spent most of your days with. Understanding, empathy, love and friendship are very, very precious things. And if you're lucky enough to actually find a friend in your workplace, go break a coconut in a temple or something. Most people bring only one part of themselves to their workplace, and that is not really enough sustenance for a friendship. It's good enough for a few laughs and general niceness, but not really friendship.

Oh, and about a gazillion people will ask, in tones of utmost concern."Why don't you do an MBA?". After the fifteenth time, you'll smarten up, stop explaining, plaster your best wise-grandma smile and say,"Because I don't want to have to manage".

I like parts of my job. I like that I can wear jeans and kurtas to work because I'm 'Creative'. I like that I can listen to music while I work. I like that there's a room where I can read the newspaper everyday. I like the fact that tea and hot chocolate are free, and the pantry boy is pally with me. What I don't like is the amount of copying and pasting I have to do (about gas today. Shee.). I don't like the profusion of gender offensive cursing, and the lack of awareness about the offensiveness of it. I don't like the recycling of old ideas. I don't like that I don't have enough new ideas to make the recycling unnecessary. But I'm very, very lucky that I actually get to do what I'm good at, and have my work taken seriously. Sometimes.