Rise and whine

I am not thought of as a morning person. In fact, at the pop magazine where I used to work, my dark moods pre-lunch were of some amusement to the other employees who used to direct imbecilic pre-teen work experience people to my desk, telling them that I would be able to help answer their inane questions.

Now that I am a City high-flier (and I mean that in its loosest sense: I am writing this while on a conference call and thus can't claim to be concentrating quite as hard as I should on the international discussion echoing round my office), I have to be across town by 8:30am which necessitates leaving the house at around 07:35. Not so long ago, if some fool had told me I would be arising at 06:45 every weekday I’d have laughed in their face and then burst into tears of panic in case they turned out to be correct. But I’ve been following that exact routine, five days a week, since the beginning of March and, nearly seven months later, I think I’m finally getting into the swing of it.

Only yesterday I was having a heartfelt discussion over my Oatibix (disappointing) with my parents about the presenters on BBC Breakfast. My father is always full of hatred for Sian, who he claims cuts a pathetic figure. He particularly hates it when she says ‘Ooh, I could never afford that!’ after some new gadget is mentioned on air. However, he conceded that he would rather be stuck in a lift with Sian than Vanessa Feltz. He even had a problem with BBC London’s newsreader, Louisa Preston, because she allegedly says her own name in an annoying way and looks ‘too perfect’. He is mourning the loss of Emily Maitlis who has moved from London to Newsnight, although I am simultaneously mourning her arrival on Newsnight since her interviewing technique seems to revolve around her barking inappropriate questions and then saying, ‘Mmmm… Mmmm’ in a terse and efficient fashion while clearly not listening to her victim’s answer. Despite berating my father for feeling passionate hatred for complete strangers, I will admit that I have found internal rage towards Emily bubbling up in the past, but at dinner last night, a BBC source assured me that she was very nice. So for now I will quash my internal rage, but Emily, if you’re reading, please try a fraction harder to listen to your subject and formulate your next question on that basis rather than relying on whatever the producer’s shouting into your ear. Also: wear less foundation.