Social media managers: we live a simple and humble life. Well, at least for the four hours max we get the chance to sleep.
This is when I get up. Not because I want to but because I have to, unless I want my eyes gauged out by the beast I call Clementine. A rather elegant name for a less than civilised canine. I drag myself to the door to the courtyard, open it for madame, at which point she’s like “Nah” and trots back to the bedroom and into my bed. (Expletive)
I make tea and breakfast for myself and feed the dogs whilst checking if any midnight rants weaseled their way on to any of my accounts’ feeds. Early morning damage control is more palatable with a cup of Five Roses.
I should be getting ready to leave now. But I am not. I hop in and out of the shower, skid myself to a near death, trying to simultaneously put on underwear and brush my teeth. And make up? I fail to remember a time when I wasn’t putting on make up in traffic.
I chuck the aforementioned make up bag into my bag, along with my laptop and a box of Jungle Oats. Have I mentioned my poor time-management skills? I throw biscuits at the dogs, blow kisses goodbye and trip and stumble on my way to the car. Wait, where’s my iPhone? Feck.
Luckily, I live less than 10 minutes away from the office, yet you’d think I’d always be on time. You are wrong. I shout “hi” to everyone in the office. Jo fills us in on the day’s weather forecast. I shudder to think where we’d be without her. I make myself a bowl of oats and start up the mother ship i.e. my Mac. Email notifications come through like a jackpot machine – if only I was that lucky. I reply to all emails, check for further notifications on social platforms, all while eating South Africa’s favourite breakfast
I knuckle down to the day’s tasks, whether it’s content creation, community management or analytics reports, my day is usually pretty swamped. An email here. A customer query there. And not to mention the usual office goss sessions.
LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNCH! With a side of Instagram stalking.
Made it to the halfway mark and I’m still breathing. It must be a good day.
When three o’clock comes around the panic usually sets in that I’ve only got two hours left to finish everything for the day. Remember what I said about time-management? This has not helped me with my irrational panicking. I did not choose the Type A life, it chose me.
I’m still in a flat panic whilst Caz has had her bags and personal belongings packed for the past 15 minutes. She is now snapping selfies in every filter. Curse you, graphic designers! Curse you!
We all make a mad dash for the door – god forbid we’re still in the office at 17:00:01! Bid adieu to the girls and make the long trek home. Sitting in traffic, I rap along to Iggy Azalea (what I listen to in my car alone is my business, not yours) and draw unnecessary attention to myself when I get a little carried away.
HOME! FINALLY! The hounds are happy to see me. Or maybe they’re relieved about the imminent prospect of food. Whilst awaiting The Boyfriend’s return, I get my Snapchat on and send countless weird and wonderful snaps to my 12-year-old sister. We’re 14 years apart but you’d never guess it.
I cooked a Michelin star worthy meal for the two of us because I’m a good wifey. After the ridiculously good dinner, I have to do some ninja-quick responding on social media because Australia is now awake (eff you, time zones!)
We watch numerous episodes of either The Night Of or Narcos – we’re serial series watchers – while I Snapchat a minimum of 10 videos of my dogs. They’re hilarious. You should follow me. Seriously – @lorian.clare.
After essentially finishing a full season of a show, The Boyfriend, the sausage dog, the quasi-dog and I head to bed. But not before doing a final check on all clients accounts. Ooh! And let’s see if anyone has watched my snaps!
(scratch, sniff, scratch)
All images are taken from my Instagram account: @lo_inthemorning