Wednesday's 10:30 meeting was a nothingburger. It was difficult for the woman who called it. She is my boss' boss, and has been told that, come 2020, she won't have a job. Our client has specifically asked her off the account.
Strangely enough, that might be good news for me. The client hasn't fired our agency, which is how it looked back in October. They expressed their displeasure with Madame Creative VP and have told us there will be far less work in 2020, but there will be work. They have isolated Madame Creative VP and her counterpart, Monsieur Account VP, as the problem. He's also out.
In theory, I'm upset with Madame and Monsieur. Their arrogance put us all at risk. On the other hand, looking at this mom of two, who is painfully thin from stress and admitted that "currently" hers is the only family income, I felt my anger evaporate. After the meeting, I gave her a hug.
I'm still not out of the woods. The client is pissed at our agency, and has hired someone else entirely to do the bulk of their work. They maintain that they will "keep" us for 2020, but our workload will be reduced significantly.
I am cautiously hopeful, since many of my assignments can be very boring. (I recently wrote a six-page brochure about the glory of investing in annuities.) The new agency wants the glamor stuff -- the TV, online and broadcast -- and likely don't have staff adept in dullsville, where I live professionally.
Of course, no one knows.
However, I know I'm OK until January. So I'm going to try not to think about it anymore.
Glad it was a Nothingburger.
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