Have I mentioned my little office space before? It is a small piece of heaven, a teeny corner of TriBeca I call my own. Even though no-one can fit in it with me, I am next to a big window so don't mind. In fact I couldn't do without my corner of a big, multi-rental office suite company. Coming down here to do my thang is fabulous and cheap - I never found anything even remotely comparable in London other than a couple of places, one in Shoreditch, one in Primmy Hill, both available for 800 UKps a month!! I pay literally nowhere even approaching that kind of sum. My kids call it my fake job, 'Are you going to pretend-work today Mum?' they joke. Laugh all you like you naughty, bad elves - I know what's under your beds.
Anyway, I've been in this building for over a year now and share space with heaps of clever, creative folk. They include fashion PRs, a Japanese fashion blogger, an Australian beauty product guru, an annoying drink importer, a lovely boxer dog, several real estate agents and party planners and most interesting of all, a showbiz agent. The things he comes out with are pure Showbiz.
"Dude!" he shouted the other day "You are my most rock and roll client but seriously, can you get off it, get on it and get out if I send a car service in an hour.?" I desperately try not to evesdrop but can't help myself, especially because anyway, the guy speaks so damn loudly...it's like 30 Rock meets Episodes, via Entourage. It's a sit-com in the making. All I need now is an agent...
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