THESE days everyone seems to have a film crew trailing around after them.

Meghan Markle and Prince Harry can’t go to the corner shop without a film crew and are reportedly allowing them into their home for a Kardashian-style reality show. Beyonce signed up for a ‘comeback’ documentary after giving birth to twins, Katie Price’s whole life seems to be documented by a film crew, and now it has emerged that Coleen Rooney and husband Wayne had a Netflix crew in tow at the so-called Wagatha Christie libel trial in the High Court.

It’s got me wondering just how much mileage there would be in a documentary about my life. We need a bit of work doing on the house and I am sure I could negotiate a very reasonable deal with Netflix or similar.

I’m hoping they won’t mind me not having Netflix myself, or, if I’m honest, even knowing the first thing about it, but, as people say, ignorance is bliss, and what you don’t know you can’t fret about.

I am sure my week would make for an interesting docu-drama, docuseries, docu-stream or whatever they want to label it.

There would be no rushing around trying to catch me leaping into taxis or on to planes - there’s a bit of cash saved for a start - but they would be able to capture my slow Monday morning shuffle to the dining room, where I plonk myself at the table to work from home or WFH as everyone seems to call it - I’ve only just worked out what that means, having long thought it was an acronym for something offensive.

Unlike Meghan’s Hollywood Hills mansion, my home isn’t the most spacious but if the camera crew can negotiate the piles of laundry, ironing board, cat litter tray and random piles of stuff we should just about be able to manage.

Me sitting at my laptop all day wouldn’t make for riveting viewing, but at least it would show the world that not all of us home workers are distracted by ‘cheese and coffee’, as Boris Johnson recently said. For the record, I don’t like either.

If in the event of my domestic routine veering towards tedious, they could introduce a spot of drone footage to liven things up. This could show me hanging out the washing, taking out the bins and walking to the local Bargain Booze on a Friday evening.

To add a bit of fun I could get the bus into town wearing a head cam, grabbing footage of the local characters who square up to the driver for refusing them free travel at certain times of day. Far more entertaining than any chauffeur driven journey.

The possibilities are endless.

In days gone by famous faces would be content to sell their life stories to magazines and newspapers. Now that’s not enough and they feel the need to subject themselves to fly-on-the-wall exposes.

Of course it is all stage-managed. For the most part the subjects are in control, dictating what the finished film will contain.

The sad thing is, we, the public, love these insights into the lives of celebrities. If it wasn’t for our voracious appetite for all things celebrity, Netflix & Co wouldn’t be proffering huge sums to race around after these high profile individuals.

Realistically I can’t expect much interest in my life beyond this weekly column - and even that is a one man and his dog affair. No-one gives a hoot about a woman over 60 living a humdrum life in northern England. Netflix isn’t coming for me any time soon - and what a relief that is.