Greener grass? Or perhaps it's just astro turf.

I'm back and breathing again having emerged from yet another dark period of my working life. The day after a pitch is over, I still feel delicate. On edge. Ready to snap at the next person who dares make me work. Inevitably, after that happens I have post snap guilt and write an email apology. Then, the day after that, due to my useless short term memory, I forget the stress, the weekends thinking of (insert useless consumer brand) and how I can possibly 'connect' with (insert target audience) in a 'unique' and 'interesting' way.

Sigh. I'm like an advertising goldfish.

Ugh, I hate goldfish.

They make me feel sick with their bulging little eyes and the poo that hangs out of their bums while they swim around. It's just not right. I often get weird sick reactions (e.g my mouth filling with saliva) towards things I have been ok with for a good 25 years. I have a list (please note this is subject to change and by no means definitive):

* Goldfish
* Pasties (I think I'm over this one though)
* Nail files
* Feet on pillows
* Unwashed new items (e.g plates, saucepans etc)

Sorry, went a bit off track there. The original thought behind this post was about job envy. When I describe my job, it sounds cool. Think of ideas. Go and get coffee. Surf the net. Write some copy. Sometimes even try (and I use this term very loosely) and draw up ideas. Play table tennis. I guess the grass greener stuff is similar to the years I spent wishing I was a blonde. Finally, when I found a hairdresser greedy enough to take my money, I became the blonde of my dreams. The grass was not greener as my hair ended up feeling like dead grass in the midst of an Australian drought.

Lesson learned: don't dye black hair blonde and perhaps appreciate your job where you get paid to 'think' and 'write' a little more.