The Devil Wears Prada was on telly last night and even though I've seen it loads of times I still sat to watch it and feel for Andy juggling the impossible demands of her boss...and lust after her wardrobe (post-makeover!)
My days of being sent on a hundred errands with vague instructions, juggling coffee cups in one hand, and a phone ringing in the other, are o-v-e-r but I look back on it as rite of passage that I'm glad I went through but would never repeat again in my life.
I once had to run out and buy a new pair of jeans for my boss as he had been out the night before and split his pants. For the whole day he was walking around with his bum hanging out, flashing the office with his tighty whiteys. Meanwhile I was made to stand and wait at a posh boutique until it opened so I could buy him a new pair. Just as I was five minutes away from returning to the office with a new pair of jeans, my phone sounded off again and I was sent out to buy 5 ice cream sundaes. By the time I got back to the office the sundaes were now pools of chocolate flavored puddles, my boss had left to go down the pub (even with underpants flashing) and I was a sweaty flustered mess. And this is from my happier days in TV.
Months later-working on a totally rubbish show-I returned home late after a tiring day of shooting and running only to recieve a nasty call from a Researcher as to why a tape was missing...although I hadn't stepped foot in the office all day and hadn't a clue why this was being pinned onto me. When I handed in my resignation a few weeks later, the Production Manager laughed. I'm still not sure if he was laughing because I hadn't done it sooner or because he was delirious with stress. I'd like to think the latter.
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