At the company off-site, they had tubs of ice cream waiting for us first thing in the morning.
Breakfast of cry-babies.
This day was planned to manage all the upset about the big re-org. To help us lick our wounds…while licking ice cream sandwiches.
There had been rumblings that a re-org (as in, re-organization or restructuring) was coming, but anticipating it didn’t make it easier when it happened.
It was a couple of years into my job at Nick at Nite/ TV Land.
I, like many people on the On-Air side of the 39th Floor, was happy with how things were.
No one who’s happy with how things are wants change. Especially not like this.
Some execs were out. So were a few producers.
Some bosses – including mine – were now under other bosses.
On-Air—the “cool” department I was a part of, which got to create the spots you saw on TV, was now merged with Off-Air—the department we’d always ignored. Their head was promoted to head of everything.
Off-Air made things like one-sheets, corporate sales tapes, presentations for the Viacom president’s birthday. In high school taxonomy, they were the Nerds. And now they owned us.
People variously felt like they’d been demoted, edged out, or traded around like baseball cards.
Some of us cried. (I *might* have.)
What’s next, we wondered. Would they take away the free soda?
Free soda was an inalienable right. They couldn’t do that, could they?
One VP, who’d shepherded the launch of our new network and had now been shuffled to a position that amounted to “Chief Paper Pusher and Nap Taker” wandered the floor with vacant eyes and a cup of free soda (maybe the last ever), saying, “They’re taking away my baby.”
At the off-site, held at a massive sports complex, they put us through team-building exercises led by touchy-feely outside consultants wearing black scoop-neck leotards.
We didn’t do trust-falls, but same kinda shit—like, put our heads together in little groups to reconstruct a box puzzle made of wood and nails; go to different corners of a room based on what we wore to bed.
(The t-shirt-and-underwear corner was most populated. In the “sleep in the nude” corner stood the one person from our department you least wanted to picture sleeping in the nude. “Really?” he said, looking around and seeing he was alone. “No one else?”)
Then, we all gathered in one room and were asked to fill out and wear HELLO MY NAME IS name stickers.
One of the On-Air producers, Danny, loved hip hop and especially loved Sean Puffy Combs AKA Puff Daddy, who’d recently shortened it to just “Puff.”
That’s the name Danny put on his name tag. HELLO MY NAME IS PUFF.
Martha, a tall woman from HR who was overly trained in the art of empathy, stood at a whiteboard and led the session.
Her head was permanently stooped in a position of listening—really listening—to what a person had to say.
“What are we feeling about the re-org?” she asked. “All feelings are ok.”
Some jerk from Off-Air said, “I’m feeling jubilant.”
“Jubilant,” Martha said. “That’s great.” She wrote it in her dry-erase marker.
Danny raised his hand.
“Yes, Puff –” Martha said gently. “What are you feeling?”
“Pissed off,” Danny said.
“Pissed….Off.” Martha wrote on the board. “That’s good, Puff. So Puff is pissed off. Is anyone else feeling like Puff?”
A bunch of us raised our hands. Martha asked what was pissing us off.
“I got into this because I love writing for TV. That’s my passion. Not writing sales tapes,” someone said, with extra disdain on the words “sales tapes.” It might have been me. (I honestly don’t remember—but it was what I was thinking.)
Martha nodded, eyes closed in theatrical understanding, and wrote it on the board: DON’T LIKE SALES TAPES.
That’s when the top creative exec, a soft-spoken marketing genius named Seth* who did yoga before everyone was doing yoga and quietly masterminded, well, everything, stood up and took over.
“You know,” he said, “When I came in here as a freelancer, I was assigned a sales tape. Not the most glamorous job. Not my passion. Did I prefer to make spots for TV? You bet. It’s easy to make fun spots for ‘Bewitched’ and ‘Father Knows Best.’
“But you know what I did? I wrote and produced the best sales tape anyone had ever seen.
“I came up with a concept no one had ever done for a sales tape, I made it funny and original, and I knocked it out of the park. My bosses noticed. They gave me a full-time job, which led to me being the head of this whole department. I made my name with that sales tape.”
He connected eyes with each of us. I was sullenly licking the length of an ice cream sandwich when his gaze fell on me.
“So before you write off something because it doesn’t seem like the coolest job, why don’t you look at it as an opportunity to do something that’s never been done before? To knock it out of the park?”
I took Seth’s advice. Not because I was smart, but because I had no choice. My job now included stuff I didn’t want to do.
But it so happens, the project that made my name in promos was a sales tape.
And, ever since, I’ve taken projects that didn’t seem all that exciting or sexy—sometimes for the opportunity, usually for the money—and tried to give them a twist.
I’ve made a career out of writing things that are normally boring and forgettable, in a way that makes people say, “I didn’t know you were allowed to write it like that!”
There’s a lot of talk out there about, “Don’t do anything just for the money,” and “Listen to your gut. If it doesn’t excite you deep in your soul, and doesn’t speak to your passion, say no!”
Disagree. Especially for anyone starting out.
When I hear new writers or new what-have-yous saying, “Oh, I’m not interested in doing ____, it’s not my passion,” I want to pull a Seth on them and say, “Do it anyway, and knock it out of the park.”
You might make a name for yourself. And you might find your passion in places you never expected.
That goes for you, too, Puff.
OK, go back to licking your ice cream.
Now you.
Have you ever opened doors by doing work you weren’t into?
Have you ever participated in company team building led by people in scoopneck leotards?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.
*All names changed, as always. To protect me from anyone saying, “That’s not how I remember it” and then suing me.
Love it! Especially for entrepreneurs/freelancers. Even if you can make money off your passion: Guess what? You’re going to have to do shit you AREN’T passionate about to get there.
I don’t know anyone who’s legitimately deeply passionate about graphic design, website design, copywriting, marketing, sales calls, networking events, and all the other crap you have to do to make money.
I’ve seen a lot of spiritual people who are really into alignment and passion screw themselves over and basically stop their ability to make money because they have such an aversion to doing anything.
It’s definitely a balancing act, I’ve also seen people run themselves into the ground in jobs and businesses that made them miserable before they finally had to shout “uncle” and shut it all down. Don’t do that either.
I’ve definitely gotten doors open and found opportunities by being willing to roll up my sleeves and do something I wasn’t passionate about.
Love this post! I owe my entire professional career to taking the scraps and making a bomb feast out of it. No regrets and lots of priceless lessons along the way.
I am cringing, because I think those scoop necked people were me, but in an overstretched black turtleneck, in a much less sexier city.
I am also laughing, because your hilarious story are the sharp scissors I need for the turtleneck.
I am going to cut this off and free up the voice and work my ass off to make it out on my own.
I love your emails!!
This part made me laugh out loud:
“…go to different corners of a room based on what we wore to bed.
(The t-shirt-and-underwear corner was most populated. In the “sleep in the nude” corner stood the one person from our department you least wanted to picture sleeping in the nude. “Really?” he said, looking around and seeing he was alone. “No one else?”)”
I mean, 2 years ago I voluntarily spent my 33rd birthday at an HR-type workshop called Emergenetics because I like personality tests & it was helping me make peace with a bad work experience. Anyway, we didn’t go to different corners of the room based on what we wore necessarilg but THAT is hilarious.
So wise. So true. And piss-your-pants-funny, as always. xx
This is such a well-told story!
Can practically see the leotards.
I think the reason I resent team-building exercises so much is that they represent an artificial attempt create a sense of intimacy that would’ve come about naturally if given time to work together and make friends (or frenemies) with teammates slowly.
Raises my hackles. Sets off my bullshit-o-meter. Makes things awkward the next day.
Team-building days are like the one-night-stands of office politics.
Also, love what you said about taking on various different projects and putting your own twist on each of them. Seems that by trying different stuff and then stepping back and observing the common thread, we can find our voice as creatives.
Yes? No? Am I being too philosophical here? Is this why I secretly hate “niches” so much?
“Business as usual… always” is not a thing. I get that a lot of people don’t like change, but I think reframing it to see it as the amazing opportunity it often is is such a great way to handle it. It’s how I look at change now – how can I make this into an opportunity to shine. I don’t always get it right, but damn if I don’t get excited about trying 🙂
It’s not a but, but an AND: AND reframing it as an opportunity is a great way to handle it. Though there are people who naturally gravitate to change, humans are wired not to like it. It threatens our sense of safety. It takes some leadership to get people onboard with it.
True true true
I’ve launched a small business, but for my other job, I work in a health food store. Technically as a nutritionist, but it’s a tiny shop so I don’t get to be snobby and say “I can’t unpack that box, I’m the nutritionist”. We all do everything. And I work hard to do it really well! I actually love getting new stock to unpack, because then I can rearrange the shelves and make them look beautiful.
Anyway, thanks for your emails, they give me lots of ideas xx
People who make the shelves nice are our unsung heroes. 🙌
Love this! (My partner’s nick name is Puff so I couldn’t help but open the email that led to here 🤣)
In one of your recent interviews with Amy Porterfield I believe, I love how you admitted that you don’t like the regular “5 tips to achieve blah blah blah”
Instead, you love writing witty and hilarious stories – and manage to use them to write in a way that not a lot of people would dare to.
Rock on Laura! Your my top inspo 🙂
Oh, thanks for listening to that interview, Mai! It was one of my favorites.
And you’re on to me! That’s exactly what I love doing!
Laura – I don’t remember how I discovered you, but I’m so glad I did! I love your writing! This piece really resonated with me. I guess I have always been the bridesmaid, never the bride. I spent my entire career working unsexy jobs or projects, all the while wishing and hoping for my big break. In the end, I realized that there are no small or unsexy projects – it’s what you put into them that makes it fun. I relish the opportunity to put my own creative spin on something no matter how mundane or boring the job. I can’t wait to read more of your articles! Thank you!
I’m so glad you did find me! In what you do, I’d consider you more of the quiet, eloped bride. How’s that?
I *may* have led some of those team building off sites.
I *may* have also got a bunch of execs to dress like Darth, Gilligan’s Island and Motley Crüe so they could learn about reorgs, change and personal brand….
How did Darth feel when he had to go be Captain on Incompetence Island??
What was it like for Ginger to go be “with” the band??? (Have to take that one to the grave for legal reasons)… maybe with my scoopneck leotard 😜
No one like change… I *may* have been paid to make it one of the funniest sessions everrrr.
I’ll bet you were masterful. Although I’m sure you’d win me over through the day, I would be resenting the crap out of you while getting dressed for a day like that.
Fuckin’ costume bullshit. Nope.
The fact that I thoroughly enjoyed reading about a corporate restructuring experience that you had is proof positive that you have Mastered your craft.
That is Mastered with a capital ‘M’.
Full-caps GURU even.
You should consider writing novels about, say scraping the gum off the underside of tables, or spreading slug bait around your garden. These are untouched subjects for novels and, with your writing skill, you could kill!
I’m not an expert on either of those topics, since I don’t clean or garden, but I could write extensively about getting gum out of one’s hair.
Thank you for the most flattering all-caps treatment!
Loved this email! I forwarded it to my millennial son and said READ IT.
BTW, saw your name mentioned in The Week, my favorite news magazine. It was a requote from the Money article. Very proud of you, Mamma Shrimp.
And happy belated BD. Hope you had a good time in St Pete.
Like Kimberly ^up there^, I too have a passion for paying bills (on time even!) and eating. So that’s what drives me to do my job…
You know what I hate? phones.
Seriously. I don’t know why or where it comes from unless its because we didn’t use the phone growing up because everyone was long distance and you had to PAY for long distance. Unless it was important. Then you could call. But it better be a death and a funeral call.
Guess what I do for a living. Yes, you smart shrimp… I answer phones. Not in a receptionist way, but in a help desk way. I work for a small computer company and I get the calls for our department when our customers forget how to do something, or something isn’t working like it should, or they’d like a change made to their program. I talk on phones for probably at least 4 hours a day.
I make a decent living. I pay my bills on time. I eat. (a lot and often) And those customers have become my friends. I had to work hard on some of them. They were not happy that they had to talk to the new girl instead of the programmer that they were used to dealing with.
If you’d have told me years ago, that I’d make my best living answering phones, I am sure I would have stayed at McDonald’s wearing my brown cap and uniform. (1970’s reference)
ps. that brown uniform was polyester
Like you have to tell me! Not that I ever wore one, but you could *see* the polyester sheen, even in the commercials.
I love talking on the phone, actually. Your job sounds pretty fun (and also challenging).
Wow. Never heard a better description of team-building exercises. An exquisite mix of real life experience and the business version of the Meet the Fockers mom’s workshops.
As a Communications Advisor for the government, I had to fight so hard that inner voice telling me I should follow my passion and stop wasting my time (and life) in a cubicle.
Being a civil servant at 23 was definitely not my definition of #joblove. How come the 6th grade “Personality of the year” I was could end up in such a boring position?
Six years later, I’m glad I stuck with it. I took the challenge of focusing all my energy and creative power onto whatever project I was assigned. I made organisational information security sexy, created whole marketing campaigns out of thin air with no budget and brought some magic to an otherwise quite dull environment.
As Yogi Bhajan says (Seth probably got that from him ;-)), focus on what’s in front of you, pouring all you have into this very thing, and you’ll become a magnet for success.
This can’t happen if you keep believing others’ ice cream sandwiches look better than yours.
This is so good! With all the advice to give the finger to the cubicle job and follow your passion, let’s not forget that jobs need great people, and many people want jobs, and that world needs the ones like you who bring creative fire to the job they’re in. You give other people permission to be more creative and passionate in the jobs they have. Nicely done!
I had a similar experience. Only without the ice cream.
After directing commercials for several years I got bored and went back into advertising. Except you don’t get to pick up where you left off. Or at least I didn’t. I had to “re-prove” myself to the new creative director (who had been my writer on BMW years before) by doing retail commercials for Levi’s.
No one else wanted to do them. Because they were all doing the cool-kid commercials with David Fincher. Retail commercials were beneath them.
So it fell to me. With a pathetic budget for 3 commercials and a total lack of interest from the agency. The CLIENT was a different matter. They cared deeply about the retail commercials.
So I called an old friend who was a talented director and called in some other favors. I wrote and art directed the commercials because no one else wanted to work on them. We shot them, edited them and finished them in record time.
I brought them back and showed them to the CD and he was silent. Then he said these are… really good. He kept watching them, shaking his head. I left him to it. The client was thrilled. I was back!
But it was still advertising. 😉
That’s such a good story. Also, it takes a certain level of courage and a stomach for humble pie to go back and re-prove yourself in a field where you were already a hotshot. Props to you and thanks for sharing this here!
Oh my god, Laura. This was hilarious to read, and also brought back how much I absolutely fucking hated those Nick/Viacom re-org off-sites. They were always billed as team-building exercises but always turned into mutual-team-torture sessions.
At the one you’re (I think) describing, one of the previously-off-air people stood up and said how offended they were to hear that the previously-on-air people considered off-air work beneath them. (“I feel like you just kicked me in the gut!”) Meanwhile that same person had been lobbying for months to get moved into the on-air group so they could do more high-profile work. So as they bared their soul, I was going **tiny violin gesture**.
I went through about 7 re-orgs at MTV and Nick. after the second or third, I started gently preparing my teams for the experience by saying “nobody’s allowed to have any feelings!” I’m pretty sure that is why I was such a beloved figure.
Thanks, McPaul! You are 100% correct in that memory.
OMG 7 re-orgs. That’s like 7 hurricanes or something. Here it comes again…do we really have to evacuate this time, or will it be downgraded to a tropical storm?
I’d be really into ice cream sandwiches in a morning meeting.
That was rad.
Yes! It’s like Elizabeth Gilbert says about the shit sandwich.
Even your “passion”, the thing you love to do, comes with a shit sandwich. And you’ve got to be willing to eat it to do the creative work you wanna do.
Laura, I love every email you write. Please keep making me laugh. And teaching me stuff. You should run for something. I think a lot of us would vote for you. I’d vote for you. Or could you start writing for the people who do run for stuff? I’d be way more entertained and knowledgeable about politics if you did.
It’s so true about the shit sandwich! I’ll add that often, what looks like a shit sandwich ends up just being a pretty good meatloaf sandwich and I’m glad I agreed to eat it.
Oh and thank you so much for the kind words! I’m glad you like (and read) my emails. I will keep writing them as long as people keep liking them. Because, yes, that matters to me.
As for running for something, HEYYYYL NAW. But I’m flattered by the suggestion. I won’t even run for my co-op board.
So true. Love this article. Years ago, I worked as a receptionist for a film production company. I wasn’t crazy about it, but I worked hard and kept upbeat. The director of development eventually hired me to work in script development. It got me on my path to being a script reader and a writer, as well as a coach for film and television writers. If I hadn’t done my best at my boring receptionist job, this woman never would’ve hired me. That job changed the trajectory of my life.
My early jobs MADE my career. Now, I would’ve been really shitty as a receptionist or anything else administrative, but I know people who put their minds to being good at that and are now hotshot Hollywood TV writers. Not that I truly want that job, but I have often coveted the Writer’s Guild money.
Good reminder, Laura. I remember in the early 90s when folks were being laid off left and right from our beloved company, the once second biggest computer company in the world. People proudly told me that they refused to learn how to use a PC (as if that would show all of those jerks out there). Not the best move. So in addition to “help your boss solve their problems / get their work done” (which is kind of what you’re saying), and do it willingly and graciously, I’d add “keep your skills up” and “keep your network up”. Sorry if I went slightly off topic.
Cuz, that’s not off topic at all. And I would love to hear EVERYTHING about working in that world at that time.
This is good. Real good.
It’s a great twist on the lemons/lemonade thingie. (ha! I wrote thingie)
Thanks for the reminder Laura!
You da best!
Drea
No, YOU da best, Miss Thingie.
Ah, the passion argument! I’m so very weary of reading all the advice to “follow your passion, and the money will follow!” and similar. (And I know I’m not alone.) It just makes me feel guilty for not finding a way to get paid for reading novels, Netflix bingeing, eating Ben & Jerry’s Vanilla Caramel Fudge ice cream, then talking with my friends about said novels, Netflix bingeing and ice cream eating. Sure, I have a passion for those things, but I also have a deep, abiding passion for paying my bills on time and eating 3 squares a day, and to do that, I sometimes have to accept writing projects “just for the money.” And I have zero qualms about it! Seriously, ain’t nobody got time for that. 🙂
Same here! My true passions, no one will ever pay me for. At least not that I’ve found yet. I get to work them in, so there’s that, but I have to do some hard stuff to make the actual money, and hard stuff will never be my passion. Taking it easy and consuming TV and pasta, that’s my first love.