Woohoo, I’ve made it through Blue Monday and January.
I even tried Veganuary for a day, although I must confess that was because I lapsed from Dry January on day two and the thought of meat, milk and eggs filled me with horror in my hungover state.
These are tough times for poor old me. Clients are taking a no-deal Brexit rather literally and sitting on their hands, yet they still expect some activity on the PR front. What really irks me is when I’m asked to come up with a proposal by a prospective client, spend ages putting one together, send it off and then don’t hear a thing back.
“Have you booked your holiday in the south of France yet, Henrietta?” my colleague Ollie chortles. “Oh yes,” I reply. “First thing I do every new year. Sorry you can’t come too.”
I’m not sure how buoyant the mood will be at this year’s Mipim, just a couple of weeks before Brexit. I worry it’ll be the last one before the market crashes.
Fortunately, I shan’t be alone in Cannes. Sophie, who has asked me to join her when she quits to set up her own firm, will be going with me. We can discuss our new venture. It’s probably not the right time for it, but I need to do something with my life. Mipim may be a damp squib for the property industry but it could be a sea change for me.
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