I'm at about a Defcon 9 on the panic scale right now.
I have realized that spending one more minute at my current job inches me ever so close to madness/homicide/cankles.
I have realized there is suddenly a possibility that I could get back into the world of advertising or production while still living in the Midwest, but NOT in Ohio.
I have realized through the thumbnails on their website that sparked the deep yearning in my soul, I want to work for a certain agency.
I have realized that I have been out of the creative game for wa-hay-hay-hay too long.
I have realized that I am now staring at a blank word document damn near tearing up because I have also been out of the cover letter game too long. Not to mention the last one I wrote awarded me my current Hellish job conditions, so was that game ever as smooooove as I thought?
I have realized that I'm most likely going to have to start at the bottom all over again. Which I'm ok with. Fuck, I'm ok with forfeiting a paycheck for a spell as long as I like going to work every day.
I have realized there is a world within the Midwest that WILL award you for your creativity instead of making you switch cubicles because you finally made a friend at work and your supervisor saw you talking to her so you may not make your 28 transactions per hour quota.
I have realized I am spending 8 hours a day with my face back and forth between a stack of freight bills and a computer screen, for fucking crumbs, with shitty benies, and just plugging away for a shorter, chubbier, more passive aggressive version of (insert most hated woman in America here).
I have realized I want out. Out real bad. Even if I don't ever even get to visit the front door of the dream agency. Even if I leave this place to work at another terrible place. Even if I have to army crawl over a bunch of zombies that are lying down, but not quite dead... I'm getting out.
Now if I could just write a cover letter instead of a blog...
