Birthday tomorrow. Can’t exactly say I’m where I wanted to be at 26. I had envisaged a sparkling career- well on my way towards the editorship of a celebrated fashion mag, perhaps an interview with a world leader under my belt and a brief stint as a terrorist hostage prefacing a bestseller. Thinner legs, a Prada jacket and a modest apartment in Notting Hill were also part of the plan.
What do I get instead? Postal duties, cankles and the same coat I’ve been wearing since uni, stitched at the shoulders to keep the arms from falling off.
It doesn’t help that I live with the Welsh Superwoman, also known as Lily. The blonde, arm-flailing, Kate Bush exterior masks a freakishly strong will to achieve. Reporter for a leading national and halfway through her first novel, she bounces into the kitchen this morning to tell me she’s thinking of taking evening classes in interior design. I wanted to throw my porridge at her.
Did I mention she’s just turned 23? I hate my life.
About Me
- Annie Adams
- London
- Fledgling journalist and technophobe, cruelly sidelined by the recession, attempts the blog thing in the hopeful pursuit of a column, a book deal and her face on the side of a bus. Former receptionist Annie Adams on the highs and lows of twenty-something London life...
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