My Name Is Not Mavis

The Beamish Boy and I are not generally big fans of Reality TV. "Real people" aren't half as entertaining as actors pretending to be real people. One of our exceptions, however, is The Apprentice UK.

Unusually, we haven't picked a favourite this season, and not just because The Badger didn't win last time. It's just that, this year, they all seem equally snide, bitchy, and generally useless as each other. I must say, though, that we would certainly not pick Katie under any circumstances.

Last week's task was to pick items to sell live on a home-shopping TV channel. Katie has a tendency to personalise her target market by giving them a name and personality traits. Thus she came out with this gem:

My imaginary consumer is Mavis. I assume it's a "Mavis" because I assume it's someone who's got a massive bust, who knits a lot, who's got bugger all going on in their lives, and spend their entire time watching the TV just for some sort of companionship. I might be over representing the "saddo" bit, but I think that's what we need to be doing; we need to be talking and selling to Mavis.

I have one thing to say to this over-made-up, dark-rooted, smug suit:

Things can change in the blink of an eye, and your health is much less set in stone than you may think. I came home one night (in my business suit and high heels), ran up the stairs, slid down the wall at the top, and have barely been able to leave my bed since.

You may think I don't have much going on in my life, but I bet it's a damn sight more fulfilling than yours. I don't have to spend my time stabbing other people in the back, slapping on a fake smile, and generally working myself into an ulcer and an early grave. I can be me. I can have real friends. OK, so I've lost a few since I became ill, but I know that the ones that are left are true friends.

Knitting gives me not only mental and physical exercise, but a boost to my self-esteem every time one of my patterns is published. Also it is the means by which I have met some of the most fascinating and genuine people in my life.

So don't you dare look down on people like me. If I had the choice, I still wouldn't be you - with or without a job with Sir Alan Sugar.

Tigger says, "Let me see that manicured hand..."