Some good news in the midst of the recessionary gloom at P&F.

I have been promoted from account manager to senior account manager. This makes me feel incredibly happy for no good reason and much more talented than before. It also annoys the hell out of my junior colleagues.

I don’t tell them there’s no pay rise to go with it. “A good title’s worth more than money darling,” insists Karoline (with a K), who is nevertheless paying herself CEO rates. I’m grudgingly believing that the old ‘money isn’t everything’ line may be true, but the extra £200 a month would certainly help fund my Louboutin habit.

All my clients have been told the news and I’m sure, view me and my work with renewed respect. Also because they have to pay £30 more an hour now.It’s worth it though, as I’m able to deliver the sort of marketing insights that only someone with ‘senior’ in their title can.

For example, I have started to recognise that boys are smelling worse than ever. Not only after a night of frantic grooving at Kandypants (the PR nitespot for those in the know) but all the time. And the better the deodorant, the worse it gets.

This is Tit’s Slacker Paradox: the easier you make it for men to do something, the worse it gets done. In this instance, it’s the 72-hour deodorant. That’s three whole days of stinky boy cover in one spray (or two if he does both pits). But that’s of course where he’ll leave personal hygiene. A quick burst of the Right Guard and no washing ‘til Wednesday. PR girls have standards, so this just won’t do.

“There are some parts that have to be freshly scrubbed, however important the client,” agrees Karoline when exhorting us to “do our duty”. Thereby introducing another of the surprise tasks that come with seniority.