...and I'm not even famous!

I work next door to Prime Minister John Howard's office.

With Peter Costello carrying on like my three year old… “he promised he’d share… he promised I could have a turn” there was a throng of media and photographers, etc waiting out the front of John Howard’s office this morning to find out if he was acting like my five year old… “no, its mine and I don’t want to give you a go”…

Just as I was walking past them, a car (I don't actually know who was in it) pulled up and the media made a bee-line for it. Well, I copped a camera to the temple and pretty much went down like a bag of shit. Thank God, security grabbed me and dragged me out of the way before I got trampled.

I managed to get myself injured and I was not even the focus of their attention. Is this how famous people feel each time they leave the house?