The Corporate Artist

I don't want to wear a suit anymore.

Every time I put on that noose they call a tie, I die a little more inside.

I can't spend the next 40 years in an office, where my lifetime achievement is the amount of paper I move around.

I can't bear talking shop to people who actually like wearing suits and creating Excel spreadsheets and holding three-hour Powerpoint presentations.

I'm an artist, dammit! Somebody save me from this corporate hell!

I synpathise. But what are you doing to save yourself?

Looking for an interesting job in a cool profession.

But there aren't any round here. The newspaper is full of call centre jobs and not much else.


I don't want to work in an office for the next 40 years, but I don't really know how to do anything else.

Except write, and nobody's gonna pay me to do that anytime soon.

Werent you made redundant a few months ago? An office job is better than no job, remember that.

Spoken like a guy who's clearly never had one.

But some people do get paid to write. You sometimes have to be preared to write what people want, rather than what you would like to write. It may seem like selling your soul, but you can still write your own stuff in your own time. try buying Writing Magazine or subscribe to Writer's News. There are sometimes opportunities in there, and current marketing features etc. I have done an office job, and it does turn you into a filing-cabinet-grey zombie whose only excitement is when somebody buys cream cakes for somebody's birthday.

Thanks Becky, I might just try that.