Oh, the glamour

PBI’ve always believed that when it comes to work, if you’re going to spend 35+ hours a week working at something, it should be something you love. Isn’t life too short to do anything else? I’m lucky enough to get paid to play with words and I love it. Nine years ago, when I received the phone call confirming I’d landed the job that would lead me into copywriting, I knew I was in for an incredible new adventure and I couldn’t wait. I got myself a place to stay in London and a disastrous new haircut (that’s another story) and off I went with great expectations. What I didn’t expect was to find some very great friends to share it all with. It’s nice if you can get on with your colleagues, it’s an absolute bonus if they become friends for life; friends to holiday with and do karaoke and fancy dress with, and perfect the art of clutching the air at what can be and is described as THE best night of your life.

I digress. So what this job also gave me, was the chance to enjoy some extremely special and glamorous moments; author parties at the Tate Modern, after parties at the Groucho, a red carpet film premiere where I Was In The Same Room As George Clooney. Never mind George Clooney, George Swooney more like. And I don’t mean to boast either, I’m still genuinely thrilled that these things happened.

GraceAs I said before, everything’s changed now, but that doesn’t mean the girls don’t keep me in the loop with all the exciting news from London town, and a few weeks ago as we swapped stories on What’s App, I had to laugh. For them, Friday night might be drinks in a Covent Garden bar or cocktails in Brixton Village, or maybe dinner in Hoxton Square. That evening, as I heard about their plans, I marvelled at my plan for that particular Friday night. It involved pumping enough milk for H to do the late night feed whilst I simultaneously read an article entitled ‘What should my baby’s poo look like?’ I sighed and carried on reading. No Friday night glamour for me. But as much as I miss it all, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And now if I need a dose of glamour? Well, that’s what my High Society DVD is for.


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