I am a great liar. I know, it’s not a particularly endearing character trait, but I try to only whip it out for small scale jobs, like pretending to door-to-door salesmen that I’m only 17 or offering a detailed description of a nightmare train journey to my boss as the reason why I’m late, rather than saying that crying until I was sick was the reason that my schedule got knocked slightly out of whack.
I’ve never really had a head for numbers, but I know all the important ones.
One thing that no one ever tells you as they’re patting you on the back for going freelance (before quickly checking their bank balance online and returning home to roll around on a bed of lovely, comforting payslips) is that free lunches are no longer a regular part of your life.
You have to start paying for them yourself and everything tastes of ashes.
I’m sure that you’re familiar with the kind of email that I’m referring to. If you’re currently in a campaign that’s promoting an upcoming business event, you will definitely have received a ‘Sorry’ email.
The worst thing that I have ever done in exchange for money was repeatedly writing, editing and being with a 30km radius of the following quote; “Poor people have big televisions. Rich people have big libraries.”
I have a complicated relationship with Ricky Gervais.
As does everyone who’s ever encountered him, I would imagine.
Yesterday, when I heard the news that Victoria Wood had died, I longed for my mum’s bed.
Timehop is as close to an on-phone game that I ever get. Used merely to remind one of the most mundane moments of life so far by some, to me Timehop is a daily puzzle in which I have to match up a seven year old tweet with the name of whichever boy it was aiming to impress at the time.