I've got four cats. I never meant to have four cats.
I adopted Kelda a few days before the first UK lockdown, so she probably still thinks I don't have a job. She's a sweetheart, I love her very much.
When we bought the flat, we thought, right, no one can tell us not to have cats any more, let's get another one – that's how we ended up with Sybil. She's smarter than Kelda and not as nice.
The other two came entirely by surprise.
Mr. Teatime (Yes, I know. You can call him Tim if it feels less embarrassing) quite literally showed up one day. He had two enormous balls and no microchip. After us trying for several weeks to find his owner, and him piddling on almost everything we owned, we thought we'd better keep him.
And Vinny. Oh, Vinny. we were only meant to foster him for a week. 50p for anyone who can guess how that turned out.
They've taught me a lot about life, tenderness, and how much cat hair I'm willing to have on my clothes before I can no longer leave the house. Surprisingly, they've taught me a few things about work, too.
Shall we?
#1: You might have to wear a lot of hats
Sometimes this is in a literal sense (sorry, Vinny). Sometimes metaphorical.
Though I'm a copywriter now, I've been a cleaner, a content creator, a social media manager, a pastry chef, a sales assistant, an account manager, an insurance salesperson, a "creative" (non specific), a potwash, and a drag queen. Some of those at the same time. I want to say that there are no bad experiences, but let's be realistic, there are.
Gives you more to write about though.
I see a lot of copywriters talking about finding their niche, and it's great to know a lot about one thing. If you're an expert, be an expert. But I really don't think it's bad to be a bit of a generalist. A good copywriter can chew up a few hours' worth of hardcore Googling and spit out something that sounds like it was written by someone who's known what they were talking about for yonks. Yay, research!
#2: Speak up for what you want
Tell them what you want (what you really, really want).
If you're a cat, this might be dinner, NOW. If you're a person, it might be more money or meatier projects.
I've only negotiated a higher salary once in my career. It was very embarrassing for me and it felt like it was very embarrassing for the lovely HR person who'd been wrangling me for the last few weeks, too. But if I hadn't, I'd have been taking a six grand pay cut. Instead I took a four grand pay cut. Watch out, Alan Sugar!
But practise makes perfect, and now I'm not as afraid of it. Since then, I've got a bit more comfortable asking for my dinner, NOW. I'll pipe up if I want to work on something. I'll take credit if I've done something cool. Turns out it's not as scary as it feels at first.
Cats aren't afraid to tell you how they're feeling. They can get away with murder because they know how to strike the balance between cool, calm, assertive and fluffy, cute, touch-my-soft-tummy.
Shy bairns get nowt, and so on.
#3: Make time for break time
Picture a cat. It might be a cat you know or a cat you wish you knew. I've included nine pictures in case you are struggling to picture a cat.
Does that feel like a creature who knows what burnout is?
Absolutely not. That's what happens when you prioritise rest.
Vinny likes to nap on the bean bag or in a sunspot. Mr. Teatime usually kips top of the bookcase, or on my partner's chair, while you'll find Sybil on top of her little cactus scratching post. Kelda prioritises rest immediately next to my head, every night.
Maybe it's not realistic to schedule in 12-18 hours of shuteye every day, but you can bloody well use up all your annual leave. You can set firm (or at least firmer) boundaries between your work life and personal life. And you can do things you enjoy without feeling guilty about not being 'productive.'
I know that's certainly not something my lot are worried about.