For three years, I made the holiday party flyer and tickets (I'm not on the party committee, but my boss is, and she asked me to do it; I would pretty much do anything for this woman, who is retiring next year, a fact about which I do not want to think) for our holiday party. I was happy to do it, it was fun.
This year for whatever reason (I think maybe I'm too busy? Or maybe because I didn't go to last year's party, when I was 11 months pregnant and big as a house?) they didn't ask me to do it. That's fine. The flyer has already come out and that thing makes it look like our party is going to be held in Hell's Basement (it's all red flowing into orange, and very fireplace-y). BUT the woman who's doing it this year just asked me for my "template" for the tickets.
Um, there's no template - there are just the completed cards (and the drafts I made). From my own head. Using my own wits and power of invention, and Microsoft Word (you don't need a fancy program!). My own not-so-carefully acquired sense of design and style. My own nit-picky attention to detail! And you know what? It bugs me! They're not fancy tickets, but they're mine. And, if they weren't good enough, then why ask for my "template"?
So I sent her a PDF (let her figure the spacing, the fonts I used out herself, right? Get your own unoffensive clipart, baby!). I'm expecting, any minute, to get a call from her.
Look, I know that somewhere along the line, I probably signed some paper that said that anything I created on the job was the property of... the job. I get it. But if you want my style without me, well, tough cookies, my friend, tough cookies.
Next time I'm getting a copyright. I can do that, can't I?
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