"Why my brain hurts a little" or "How I became a professional copywriter"

It has been a week. For sure. And today is only Wednesday.

Funny story:

Monday morning I went in to work and took stock of what the week was gonna be like. My friend Debby from Sp******* studios popped online.

Sp******* (I'm "*"ing out their name so that google searches don't lead to the blog) is an advertising/design studio. I met Debby and the other owner, Matt, about 3 or 4 years ago when I answered a blind ad for a freelance copywriter. Long story short, I didn't know anything about copywriting, but it seemed like something I could do. I gave it a shot. They liked my work, and I've been doing little one-off jobs for them ever since.

Debby is also a member of the trendy and exclusive chat club that is my IM "buddy list." I had just finished writing an ad for them, so when she popped online I gave her a "bloong!" to see how things were going.

She said good. Told me how the ad was turning out. Light chatter ensued.

Then I said, "So, are you hiring a copywriter/project manager/man-about-town today?"

"No. Sorry. Why, are you getting fed up over there?"

"No. I'm just looking at my list for the week and it's not doing anything for me."

"Haha {more light chatter} Bye!"

Time passes.

Around 4pm I get a "bloong!" from Debby.. "Hey! You there?"

"Yeah. Why... you change your mind?"

"Well.. we were talking... I don't want to get your hopes up, but..."

Fast forward 20 hours. I'm having lunch with Matt and Debby. They have an idea for a new position, and they think I'll really like it. They explain that they are tired of outsourcing all of their copy work, and they'd like to bring someone on full time. Someone they could train up in the way of Sp*******, so that they can stop (essentially) leasing writers, without every building any equity. They think they might like me to be that someone.

After some Q&A, some philosophy, and the greatest interview question ever... "If someone offered you a million dollars cash, would you kill a puppy?" ...we adjourned. They said they would think about it and get back to me.

I went back to work and was quietly tense.

8:30 last night--a scant 28.5 hours from the time at which the first "might" appeared--I get a call from the studio. They offer me a job as "Senior Creative Copywriter" at their studio. I accept.

Then, I (and Deb) lie awake most of the night.

Today, I go to work, and inform my posse of the situation. There is weeping. There is joy. There is freaking out.

And the posse was pretty moved, as well.

Then I have to tell my boss... who promoted me to a department head less than a year ago--a process that had started with the question, "Do you see yourself staying here long-term?" ...that I am quiting. And there's nothing that could possibly make me stay. And that my last day will be 14 days before the first major product release for our company in a year and a half.

This went surprisingly well.

Then I went up to HR, put in my two weeks, and wrote them an official letter of resignation.

After work, I went over to the studio and inked the deal.

And that is the story of "Why My Brain Hurts a Little" or "How I Became a Professional Copywriter".

The End

Moral of the story...?

"It's not what's on the outside that matters, it's what's on the inside that really counts. Unless what's on the outside is bees. Because, if it's bees on the outside, it doesn't really matter what's on the inside."