I am a professional...

Blueberry bagels in the foreground with a child's hand stealing blueberries off the plate

I generally consider myself to be a professional. It's true, that reasonably often this means I need to take a junior recipe tester assistant with me to business meetings. But I always try to maintain a professional, um... air. I brush my hair and my teeth. I dress appropriately.

I don't go to meetings in my pyjamas.

Well, hardly ever.

A few weeks ago I had a meeting with an app developer. We use this app to help us find your house to deliver your dinners. It's fabulous. It has changed my life and saves me loads of time. It means we're running our delivery truck greener too, because we find the most efficient way to do the delivery run, driving as few kilometres as possible.

The developers live in Canada. I do not. When they are eating their dinner, I am eating my breakfast. This causes some difficulty with scheduling a meeting. We did, however, find a time and set the meeting for 5.45AM.

When it comes to tech, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed. But I do know what a phone is. And, what's more, I know how to use one. A phone call was the means by which this meeting was to take place, and so on the appointed morning, I got up early.

I made a cup of tea and sat by my phone. My computer was also open and sat on the table nearby. I waited.

Somewhat shockingly, my computer screen suddenly sprang to life. There, in appropriate professional attire, was the app developer, complete with groovy Canadian accent. I was in appropriate bedtime attire, complete with wild hair and puffy eyes.

In a fit of panic I redirected the computer screen to obscure his view of my pyjamas. It worked. Instead, he had a bird's eye right up my nose.

Yes. I am a professional. Who clearly does not understand the meaning of the words, "phone call".