I had a very nice dinner last night, the host a friend I have not seen in several years. One house, four jobs and two kids ago to be exact. He and his lovely wife are building their chosen family.
We know each other from my last ad job before law school. Our creative director was easily the worst CD I have ever worked for. And as I roughly count now, that's a grand total of about 20 CDs.
Although I should be, I am not ashamed to say I hated that man with the heat of a thousand suns.
He took all credit and no blame. Only worked on the choice assignments, all the dreck to the rest of the team. Micro-managed. Did not understand the difference between art direction and design. Every piece of golden creative he touched turned to lead. His monumental lack of talent, arrogance, and appalling treatment of others drained any final love I had for my chosen profession.
We discussed him briefly last night at dinner, mainly to reaffirm that Yes, he was indeed a toad.
A poisonous, poisonous toad.
However. Had it not been for that soul-sucking job, I would not have many of the wonderful friends I have today - namely Burns, Autumn, Jeannine (Everyone's Favorite Lesbian), Tim, Mister Rick... and in turn the friends I have made through those good folks, like Heather.
So I am grateful for that job, because it helped me build my chosen family too.
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