We talked a lot - the past week at work

Above: the purple buddlia, growing wild, is evocative of the hot London streets of late summer.

Monday

Although I am travelling to and from the same building, the new emphasis upon arriving exactly on time in the mornings is proving to be exhausting (“downstairs” I could often slip in at ten and no-one would say anything). Also, it is impossible to leave on time in the evenings - seven o’clock is usually when I manage to get away. That is why I have become very sang-froid about this new job - I know I am not going to keep this up more than a few months (unless I move closer to London).

Claire was away on Monday, so the only person I had to talk to was Creative Director Marc Baxter. He is clever and very well-read (on his desk, among the heaps of paper, is Spenser’s Pathology of the Brain, a novel by Jean Genet, and a full-colour book on the artist Guido Reni). We talked a lot, in a getting-to-know-you kind of way, but actually we don’t have a great deal in common (he asked who my favourite poet was, and when I told him Tennyson he looked disgusted).

I finished some copywriting left over from Friday. Then I wrote another assignment very quickly. Lynn came in and briefed me on copy for a brochure.

Marc Baxter didn’t seem to do a lot of work. Much of his day consisted of leafing through campaigns that have won awards (winning awards is an obsession for him). He gave me some feedback from the client I wrote the radio commercial for (“They really loved it, they think it works really well”).

“Upstairs” they don’t have a studio but only use freelances. I recommended Joey to Marc Baxter and he called him in. He arrived at 2pm in a red England shirt, jeans and white trainers (which apparently he cleans every day). Joey and Marc seemed to get on really well and they talked about running - eight-mile runs, mile-runs in under five minutes, sprints around a south London reservoir (and the knowledge that they have probably passed each other there). Marc gave him a small job to do, as a trial. Graphic artists work at a hot desk in a windowless glass cupboard just behind Marc’s desk.

On the way home the trains were disrupted.

Tuesday

I produced three themes on a car-related ad. These were for Alex, who works on Val’s team (“I just do the donkey work”). Alex told me that Andrea, the new Account Executive, was not very popular.

Claire was back today and at lunchtime we went to her favourite café. This turned out to be a very dingy place where the food seemed unimaginative and a bit stale. It is surprising that in central London, where property prices are stratospheric, you come across run-down little places that must be barely scraping a living.

In the afternoon Aled, one of the directors, came in to talk to Marc. Aled is aged about 35, smooth manner of talking (veering a little to smarmy on occasion). They held a whispered conversation, parts of which I could hear:

“Terry thinks dark clouds are gathering” said Aled.

“He wouldn’t know a dark cloud if it pissed on him” said Marc.

Late afternoon lots of very basic ads came in. I just churned them out, one after the other. A lot of the billings is made up of advertising, which is unusual considering we are supposed to be PR specialists. Generally the PR work gets us in to see a client, and once we are working for them we try to take over any advertising they run (Terry likes to do this as it pushes the agency billings up).

In the evening I looked at my finances - I must try not to be so extravagant.

Wednesday

“The human imagination is the stage on which our advertising is acted out” said Marc Baxter, in one of his pompous moods.

A briefing in the morning for website copy for an American company based in London. Then Doug briefed me on some work that I wrote out immediately (500 words). Then copy for an electronics company, an auction house, a home improvements company.

Kim Blacha came to office at 5.30 to wait for me - I could see her sitting in Reception while I raced through the last assignment.

Thursday

I felt exhausted when I woke up, which is not a good sign (I thought back to my early 20s, when I could get by on only a few hours sleep per night).

I did some more work for Doug, and when it was finished I took it out to him rather than just e-mailing it. I sat by his desk and talked it through (I wanted to make sure he understood the angle). At his desk in the centre of the floor the agency seemed completely different, noisy and bustling - you had to raise your voice just to get heard.

Back to the seclusion of the writers’ room.

I helped Marc Baxter with some conceptual ideas and we worked together quite well. I had a rush of ideas (which sometimes happens to me) and solved lots of problems he had been struggling with. No need to go out at lunchtime as lots of food was left over from a client visit (there is a suspicion that Aine over-caters especially so that there will be left-overs to share out).

When I got home in the evening I fell asleep and didn’t wake until 2pm. It is horrible when this happens. You have to wake up completely to go to bed properly.

Friday

Claire seemed very down - “I’ve had lots of copy chopped about this week”.

The economic situation has affected many of the agency’s clients. The account teams seem uneasy about the future and you often see little groups whispering. Unlike “downstairs” people are more cautious about expressing their opinions.

In the afternoon not a great deal of work got done. The Olympic opening ceremony was playing on the television in the Board Room and people wandered in and out to watch bits of it. In a way it made the mood more upbeat.