By 10.00am today, it looked as though I had won the rubbish trifecta: horizontal rain on my walk to work, fuck-upedness with my agency regarding my last pay packet and a fractious boss.
But then an email from my shopping mentor spilled a little bit of sunshine onto proceedings: she'd managed to snag me the delectable gold sweater from H&M I've been salivating over. Yay Anita!
And if that wasn't enough, at 1.00pm the editor of the national Saturday magazine (from the NZ Herald) pictured below commissioned a 2,600 word feature. My hands didn't stumble over the keyboard then, you read it right: 2,600 words. In a few weeks. Fortunately, it's a fun profile of Ange, a new author and an old buddy of mine. I've profiled Ange's kitsch dance group before and covered her ass in a PR contract when she was on maternity leave a few years back. So knowing her, and her outstanding sense of humour, should take most of the sting out of delivering a good piece on time.
The publicist is couriering me a copy of the book tomorrow and I can't wait to have my way with it.
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