What Would Beyonce Do?

In a new column, Lizzie asks how superstar Beyonce would cope with common student problems

Fresh from her stunning Superbowl performance, Beyoncé is as hot a topic now as when she first burst into our lives (thereby improving them immeasurably, I might add) along with Kelly and…the other one as part of Destiny’s Child.

Whilst some of you may have moved on, my obsession with the beautiful Bey is still as strong as ever, and with more and more people beginning to take their lead from this powerhouse of pop, I look to Queen B for inspiration in navigating the mundanities of life by asking:

What Would Beyonce Do?

…if she had spent ALL day on the phone to Denise at Royal Mail and STILL COULDN’T SEND HER PARCEL?

Ok so I didn’t cry and I doubt Bey would either, despite looking dazzlingly devastated in the picture above.

As far as crappy days go, wasting 10 hours negotiating postage is by no means in the same league as opening the wardrobe door with such vigour that the handle flies off, hits your cup of tea, pouring it over your brand new Macbook (and trying to convince your insurers that’s a story with any kind of truth in it).

In retrospect, I probably should have taken a Beyoncé-style course of action at the first sign of trouble, taking Denise firmly in hand, whilst leaving her in absolutely no doubt whatsoever that I was the complete personification of all that is delightful in the world…

Although, on second thoughts, those skills probably require some honing if I don’t want to give the erroneous impression of attempting to seduce my way to complementary next day delivery (now there’s an idea).

However, unlike B, I floundered and let her bamboozle me with talk of packaging regulations, parcel dimensions, proof of postage and a great many other things all seemingly beginning with ‘P’.

Beyoncé is never bamboozled. Need proof? Look at her recent impeccable handling of lip-sync gate.

Having charmed her way through more interviews than a Bristol graduate (no mean feat), she never falters and has perfected the apparently simple yet ubiquitously elusive technique of not letting a word pass her lips until it has received approval from her brain.

This skill means, unlike me, anything she’d say in response to being put on hold for the 60 millionth time wouldn’t get her black-listed by Royal Mail customer service.

This is how my (slightly late) New Year’s resolution was born. As I replaced the phone in its cradle, the dial tone of hung-up-on shame still ringing in my ears, I determined from now on, in everything I say/wear/eat to pause.

I’ll take a moment before deciding on my course of action to ask ‘What would Beyoncé do?” in the vain hope I can harness just an ounce of her poise in order make my life slightly less of a shambles. I’ll let you know how I get on…