It’s fine to be flawed

I had a big cry-baby snot fest the other night. First time in ages. Other than, perhaps, the sporadic slightly fizzy nose that occurs when happening upon ‘suggested for you’ Facebook videos of cute ‘n’ cuddly animals loving each other despite their differing species’.

It’s hard work spitting all those tears out. But even though your eyes feel sore and your nose looks like you’re six months too early for Comic Relief, it’s actually quite relieving. So I’m going to finish the job by blogging. Let’s see if we can get the rest of this stubborn nonsense out via a qwerty keypad…

This is not a reflective post. This is not a ‘today I learnt x…’ post. This is a ‘perhaps with each word I type I will make myself feel a teensy bit better’ post. It’s an attempt at self care, I guess.

So here goes.

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Pipe down Piers

There’s a charter for those who work in PR, marketing, accountancy and HR. It’s to promote responsibility. Yet celebrities – who have a much greater influence than I have, for example, in my PR role – don’t have to sign up to anything.

So it’s kind of about trust and good will. What would you do if you had such a powerful platform? If one tweet could reach millions? If you could completely change somebody’s day? Would you try to do something to help? Or would you ridicule those who do?

It’s ironic, really, that Piers Morgan accused Denise Welch of using mental health to raise her profile. He uses his nasty pantomime act to gain attention a la Katie Hopkins. I watched Good Morning Britain one morning on the TV in the gym. It was the interview with Nicola Thorp who was sacked for refusing to wear high heels.¬† It was deliberately provocative, of course. Does he really believe women should wear high heels or face losing their job? Whether he does or not it’s shocking. Shocking that he believes in something so blatantly sexist or, on the other hand, shocking that he is willing to peddle such shite to draw in the ratings in a cheap and nasty Jerry Springer show kind of way.

It’s Good Morning Britain. It’s mainstream telly. I’ve never watched it since leaving the gym that day.

But I couldn’t get off Twitter last night.

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