6:30am Wake up. Double check it's not the weekend. It's not. Grimace. Check emails. Force self to get up. Make a little more effort than usual as don't want client to think I'm sloppy. Which I am, but they can't know that.
7:05am Head downstairs for breakfast of Shredded Wheat and homegrown blackberries. Feel certain Martha Stewart would be proud.
7:25am Leave house and start commute. Remember why I never wear this shirt, so uncomfortable. Witness two ponies grooming each other. So moved, feel a bit teary. Consider if sleep deprivation is affecting me. Decide that's a ludicrous thought. #WhyDontHumansGroomEachOther.
8am Get cut up by Volvo. Lose my shit and deem it a horn-worthy offence. Sound horn. Feel slightly better. Make mental note to hate all Volvo drivers.
9am Working day starts. Down some coffee. Answer urgent emails ahead of meeting. Print every kind of document known to man. Run up and down stairs. Feel awful that I've almost certainly just destroyed half the rain forest. More concerned with whether all this stair climbing counts as working out. Decide it does.
12pm Client team arrives and meeting begins. Agency is supplying buffet lunch of Marks and Spencer sandwiches, crisps, beverages and chocolately snacks. Realise this must be what it's like to be a dog in a dining room who's not allowed to eat food. Wonder if nail polish is a bit slutty. This shirt is really sodding uncomfortable. Agency and client chat about the weekly status update of account, (lots of stuff going down); review the success of the last quarter, (everyone seems pleased); chat about stats and stuff, (feel chuffed as eff that I totally get what's being said because I covered it in a unit at university); mention of other digital web based type things regarding the client and their partners (and us potentially poaching their business). Pay close attention. Strange pieces of furniture arrive for another client's event. Bit awks. Finance is discussed. Hooray for money! #DoesThisMeanMyJobIsSafe. After faffing about with temperamental wifi, client shows some top secret upcoming digital and web based thangs they're working on and planning to release within the next few years*. All very impressive. Lots of head nodding and complimentary remarks. Feel super important. Want to tweet about it but contractually obliged to keep my gob shut.
4:30pm Meeting draws to a close. Make mental note to work on my handshake. Bit out of practice. Feel a bit flushed. Four and a half hours in the boardroom does not fly by. Scoff some of the leftover snacks. Hate self a bit. Back to desk to sort through emails and pretend I'm V important.
9am Working day starts. Down some coffee. Answer urgent emails ahead of meeting. Print every kind of document known to man. Run up and down stairs. Feel awful that I've almost certainly just destroyed half the rain forest. More concerned with whether all this stair climbing counts as working out. Decide it does.
12pm Client team arrives and meeting begins. Agency is supplying buffet lunch of Marks and Spencer sandwiches, crisps, beverages and chocolately snacks. Realise this must be what it's like to be a dog in a dining room who's not allowed to eat food. Wonder if nail polish is a bit slutty. This shirt is really sodding uncomfortable. Agency and client chat about the weekly status update of account, (lots of stuff going down); review the success of the last quarter, (everyone seems pleased); chat about stats and stuff, (feel chuffed as eff that I totally get what's being said because I covered it in a unit at university); mention of other digital web based type things regarding the client and their partners (and us potentially poaching their business). Pay close attention. Strange pieces of furniture arrive for another client's event. Bit awks. Finance is discussed. Hooray for money! #DoesThisMeanMyJobIsSafe. After faffing about with temperamental wifi, client shows some top secret upcoming digital and web based thangs they're working on and planning to release within the next few years*. All very impressive. Lots of head nodding and complimentary remarks. Feel super important. Want to tweet about it but contractually obliged to keep my gob shut.
4:30pm Meeting draws to a close. Make mental note to work on my handshake. Bit out of practice. Feel a bit flushed. Four and a half hours in the boardroom does not fly by. Scoff some of the leftover snacks. Hate self a bit. Back to desk to sort through emails and pretend I'm V important.
6:12pm Time to head home. Wonder why woman in Honda behind me wants to get in my boot. Yell at her to learn to drive. Bust out to T Swift, almost deafen self.
6:57pm Arrive home at last. Very nearly put nail polish remover on cotton pad instead of micellar water. Vow to live each day like it's my last. And to move micellar water away from nail polish remover. Jump in the shower. Wrap up in pjs. Scoff some dinner. #GBBO. Rant about how much I dislike Flora. Rejoice when she gets cut. Wonder if acted a little too insensitively before falling asleep approx twenty minutes after show ends. <End Scene>
Spoiler alert: M&S buffet food is the bomb. But you already knew that.
~ Eleanor xo
*Client emails two days later to say that what was shown at the meeting is super secret and not to be shared... Privacy concerns ON FLEEK.
Spoiler alert: M&S buffet food is the bomb. But you already knew that.
~ Eleanor xo
*Client emails two days later to say that what was shown at the meeting is super secret and not to be shared... Privacy concerns ON FLEEK.
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