I have terrible blog time keeping. If I was the time travellers’ wife i’d probably not even notice if he disappeared for a year or two.
The first photo is a sneaky snap shot of a snap chat that we took of ourselves. I put it up thinking I didn’t have many photos, now we have too many I think but my computer is on the cusp of a breakdown so I daren’t f*ck with it.
So on Thursday Gina and I were on set, filming our new commercial. We ate a lot of sandwiches and heavily regretted the decision to order a flat white coffee, in a sweltering studio.
It was a good day and we finished it by having a deep conversation with Sam (accounts extraordinaire/ office maverick) about tattoos, and the potential problems that may occur when having other peoples’ faces tattoo’d in questionable places. 
Wednesday evening, Gina and I ate a lot of cheese and olives as we are now part of a super duper OUT OF HOURS power to the womb-man group.
Just re- read this, how can I justify that is why we were eating lots of cheese and olives? I should emphasise that snacks were provided, Gina and I ate them all.

Second and third pictures are of me, doing what I do best, and being a total weirdo, by myself. There was a band playing all night in the bar so the kitchen was taken over by two rather yummy men making hot dogs. The hot dogs were yummier than the yummy men. I did not look yummy therefore I settled for the yummier hotdog and put it in my not so yummy face. I brandished my own bottle of ketchup around accidentally (with a flourish of ones wrist) and suddenly everyone at the bar thought it was for public use, and because I’m English and don’t like to complain or draw attention to myself, I sort of became a ketchup dispenser for the un-condimented public. 

I partayed with my friend Jack on Tuesday night at Café de Paris. We then decided it would be a good idea to get a three course dinner at 10pm, then took horrific selfies. 
Fourth picture is of my din dins on set for the shoot. They wrote, ‘senior copywriter’ on the cling film. You know what they say in show biz, reach for the stars and you’ll get your name written in permanent pen on some cling film, which is how I imagined they wrote it down. Would have been a nightmare with biro- it would have ripped and other felt tips would have just smudged and this glorious moment would have never happened for me. Oh and in case you were desperate to know and reading this with your stomach tying up in knots at the idea of never knowing what the left over mulsh on my plate began life as- it was haddock, mashed potato and peas. 
Monday Gina and I started work very early as because we’re part of this secret group, or VAG- very awesome women, therefor have to fit big projects either side of work projects.
After sitting in director chairs all day, we decided we’re going to be like the Cohen brothers, but with boobs. No, we have no experience of film making, but we will soon and when we do then perhaps I won’t have to fully take advantage of any free food I get, as I’m so skint, and end up eating copious amounts of cheese, which leads to weird dreams, which make me sleep through my alarms, which means I have to get on the Underground still half asleep, with the confused feeling that I’m still being chased by bowls of scrambled egg.
I’m going to see my Granny this weekend which will be good. Good meaning i’ll get fed, and have a lovely warm bed and get to tell her all the grown up things i’ve been doing. Because I’m a grown up now. It feels weird but I think I definitely am. Or i’m not sure? 
Pictures 5 and 6 are just little snippety insight snips into my life. I always read the ‘rush hour crush’ and try and bend it to be about myself. ‘A gorgeous dark woman with big brown eyes, petite, reading a DIY book- you took my breath away, maybe we can DIT? (do it together)’.
I’m going to write about Euan, and the incident of the Soho darts. So Gina and missed the memo and rocked up at the agency at 9 am this morning, when everyone else met on set, in West Acton. So we plodded back to Oxford Circus, chatting merrily amongst ourselves when suddenly we heard very loud and angry Spanish. Just kidding, it was silly Juan, chasing us with his darts. We forgot to pick up the hard drives to take to set! So we all merrily plodded back to the agency, got the hard drives and on our way we went.
Now, that was chapter 1. Chapter 2 ladies and gentlemen was a much more stressful affair. We, did as we intended, and arrive in what has been called the ‘California’ of London, West Acton. Twas a misty morning, and a bloody freezing one to boot, and we had to carry these darn hard drives. We followed google maps, as one does, with much faith and determination. I’m not sure how, but we ended up around the back of some garages, on private property, at a dead end, surrounded by electric fences. There was nothing else for it, we had to scale the fence of doom, risk our lives, see pictures 7 and 8, and potentially our jobs, to get to the set with the hard drives. So i’ve stuck a photo up as evidence of this adventure. Finally we got there, and ate biscuits and drank coffee for breakfast. A meal for legends.
The shoot was also catered- I have haddock and mash potatoes and peas and beans and sauce and Gina had some vegetables. We then ate enough pastries to stock all the Gregg’s in Leeds. (Gregg’s is a bakery) (Leeds is a northern city, famed for ensuring Leedsonians are never more than 10 metres from a Gregg’s.)
Then I bumped along with G, back to central London, where I tried to go to the gym. Instead I went back to work, picked up a door mat for Irish, then re- communed with G for celebratory champagne.
In picture 9 i’m wearing my new favourite jumper and eating breakfast. (that was this morning)
Oh yeah Gina took a snap chat of me on the loo and sent it to me 😦 this was both sad and insightful. 

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