Monday 22nd, February

131 lbs. How? Why? On the evening on an important social occasion, the very first in which I will be Mrs. Soon-to-be-Mark-Darcy? Times spent going to the bathroom and doing fast running in place exercises and weighing myself afterwards: 9

4 p.m. Work. Apparently it seems that everyone knows of my engagement. Do not know how, yet do not really care as I had opportunity to show off engagement ring to at least ten coworkers today. Finally, I can be smug and not pointed at by smug-married couples unless they wanted to show their ridiculousness by being completely hypocritical, yet I will never become a smug-married since I do remember days in life of being single. Margaret Grant actually had the nerve to come up to me and asked what months I will be taking off.

"What?" I repeated, confused.

"Maternity, Bridget. Isn't that why Mark is marrying you?"

Jellyfish alert at large! Felt as if ten stingers had zapped me from all sides, but managed to choke out, "Not…pregnant."

"Tut." She said before walking away.

Tut? What is that tut? Saw Margaret Grant eyeing me from office while I was in midst of showing off ring to Terry Wade. I ducked into my papers and pretended to be very busy, but actually kept glancing at clock. Then ducked into bathrooms one last time to do some fast running in place. Had to stop though because heard a covered shriek and turned to face Catherine Marshall who had come in noiselessly to the bathrooms. I recovered rather quickly and told her I was just training for the next marathon and had to keep my blood flowing nicely. Then I left the bathrooms, saw that it as five, and clocked out.

5:30 p.m. Mark will be picking me up in an hour to go to Natasha's engagement party. Put on dress. Had to call Shazzer to help me put it on property. She did the corset quite tight and I could hardly breathe. I resorted to take short quick breaths from my mouth.

"Bridget, will you stop panting like a dog?" Shazzer remarked.

Right. So resorted to quietly breathe short breaths through nose. Very stiff to walk.

6:30 p.m. Hair is still a mess.

6:35 p.m. Doorbell. Oh no, it's Mark!

"Who is it?" I asked innocently.

"Mark." came the response in an amused voice.

"Um…hold on." I said as Shazzer frantically tried to finish my hair. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, Bridget!" Shazzer apologized as I massaged my scalp.

"Bridget?" Mark called from outside. "Everything alright?"

"Fine….I'm just…er…looking for some mints!"

Started randomly shuffling things on my dresser to make it sound like I was looking for mints.

"Bridget, stay still!" Shazzer hissed.

"Anyone in there with you?" Mark called.

"Just Shazzer!" I answered. "Be right out! Why don't you have a cup of coffee down the street?"

"Right." Mark answered.

Not sure if he had gone downstairs, but Shazzer finally finished my hair fifteen minutes later. Quickly put on shoes and scrambled out the door and ran downstairs. Mark was nowhere in sight. Oh no. He couldn't have left already…could he?

Bugger, it was cold.

7:30 p.m. Mark and I arrived to Natasha's engagement party half an hour late and found everyone already seated and having appetizers.

"I thought you two weren't going to show." Natasha remarked with one eyebrow raised. She cheerfully gestured to a waiter to bring two more seats.

"Congratulations." Mark said formally.

"Thanks Mark, you are sweet." She put a hand on the shoulder of the man next to her. "This is Charlie."

Mark and Charlie shook hands and then Mark introduced me.

"So Bridget, you and Mark have been dating for quite awhile?" Meg remarked with just the teeniest hint of smugness in her voice as she and William got married over winter.

I simply nodded and sipped my wine in what I thought to be in a rather dignified manner. I stole a look at Mark to see if he was going to say anything, but he seemed to be absorbed in conversation with Charlie.

"Still not married, Bridget? How old are you now...thirty-four?" Natasha asked in a casual voice.

At this point, Mark looked up and said, "Bridget and I are engaged." Then he continued his conversation with Charlie as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Everyone turned to look at me, some mouths slightly open. I stole another quick glance at Mark, but he was still conversing, although there was a slight grin on his face.

"When?" Natasha stuttered out, losing her poise for the moment.

"Valentine's Day." I answered happily. "Is there more wine?"

"Bridget Jones!" Meg exclaimed. "I'm so…surprised!"

I coolly sipped my second glass of wine and tried not to look too excited. Instead, I remained as composed as I could and casually held out my hand to show my ring.

9 p.m. It was great. Everyone oohed and ahhed over my ring. Natasha looked dumbfounded. The one thing she always used to make me feel uncomfortable was now gone. Bridget Jones single no more! Bridget Jones to be married! Instead, Natasha suddenly became keen on having a double wedding.

"It'll be fun, don't you think?" she asked, as the waiter brought around crème brulees for dessert.

"Er…" said Mark.

"Oh come on, don't be such a spoilsport. Double wedding…double the fun!" Natasha sounded like she was promoting an advertisement .

"Well…" I began, looking at Mark. "Mark and I aren't going to be married until summer."

"You mean you're going to wait that long?"

"Haven't worked out all the details." I said meekly, wishing I could drown in my wine. Every question she asked struck a dagger.

"Hmm…" Natasha pursed her lips. "Well, Charlie and I are going to be married the last day of March. It'll be the beginning of spring. Afterwards, we're going to Romania."

"For your honeymoon?" I asked.

"Yes. We'll be staying at a lovely grand hotel. Where are you going, Bridget?"

"Um." I coughed.

"Paris? Cancun? It's up to you, Bridget. That is, no skiing of course." Mark gave me a wink.

Paris! Cancun! I've never been to those places. Just hearing them made me flush with excitement.

"And children?" Cosmo spoke up. "Time is running out."

"I haven't even thought of that." I answered, desperately wishing to return to my flat so I may breathe properly and not be grilled for questioning like a salmon filet. Actually, I've thought of it quite a lot. I imagined Mark and I happily married with two adorable little girls in which every morning after a lovely family breakfast, we would go off to work, drop the girls off in daycare and then both return home, cook dinner together and do all sorts of family things. Mark and I at PTA…Mark and I going to a school play…dressing our children up for Halloween…

"Earth to Bridget Jones." Cosmo waved his hand in front of my face.

"Oh hello." I snapped out of my reverie.

11 p.m. When Mark and I returned home, I tentatively asked him the subject of children. After all, if I was getting into this marriage, we would need to discuss the important factors beyond who choose what movies to rent.

"So…um…about the topic…" I began.

"Hmm…the topic…" Mark mused.

"What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?"

"What Cosmo said."

"I don't know, that would depend on what he said." Mark took off his tie and proceeded to help himself to a glass of water in the kitchen.

"You know," I pressed on. "About what comes after…our marriage."

"The sex?" Mark grinned.

Honestly. That's all what men think about. Neverless, before I could say anymore, Mark proceeded to carry me into the bedroom and there we lost all the dignity and composure we held through the evening.