I’m Very Sorry. May I Have A Job?

Dear beloved Advertising Overlords in charge of hiring,

Thank you.

I have learned my lesson.

I have been an insufferable ninnyhammer who wanted to change things and I now realize this is an alarmingly unpopular thing to be.

It has been thoughtlessly selfish of me to raise my objections to some practices, thereby harshing everyone’s chill sycophantic vibe.

In the future, I will be a more solidly hesitant milksop - someone who is 110% committed to a complete lack of progress.

I will not attempt to usher any change that would result in a positive impact. I will avoid offering any new ideas; well aware that though they might seem miraculous in retrospect, they are, in the moment of conception very upsetting poop-babies with disagreeable scabby nipples on their faces.

I renounce being a change monger mongering for change. I will instead embrace our shared corporate history of innaction, reminding myself of the sacred story of caveperson Grakk who wanted everyone to move to a new cave with fewer hungry bears. Blarb and Dwonk were rightfully opposed to this because the entire cave would have to revise its mission statement to involve somehow fewer attacking bears.

“But who will eat our old and weak?” Dwonk said reasonably.

“As lead ‘Bear Attack!’ shouter, what would my new role be?” asked Blarb wisely. “I have over 12 years of experience shouting “Bear Attack!” at key bear attack moments. I will lose my standing in the cave’s executive leadership committee, possibly becoming as utterly useless as Torg the stalagmite namer.

“I call this one Uppy’” said Torg, pointing at a nearby stalagmite.

And this is why we all still live in caves today and are routinely eaten by bears. As it should be.

The sad truth is I have been bothersomely selfish.  I have taken a slight inconvenience of unjustified suffering to heart. And rather than enduring it quietly by drinking at 10:30 am, like any other responsible adult, I inconsiderately burdened everyone by trying to make the world a better place, for you and mostly me.

Even though I, and other much more ridiculously talented and brave people, routinely make changes that generate markets and fortunes, we only do it because we have the galling gall to adore you, my beloved advertising overlords, and we believe that you also deserve a place where the inconvenience of routine inequity isn’t routine or convenient.

Which is understandably something you don’t want.

And you don’t need some sauce-box do-gooder telling you that you do.

I got it now.

I am very, extremely sorry, and still super available.