January 2, Wednesday
Weight - Same as yesterday. I expect, since I never eat Mum's cooking - her gravy looked somewhat alive.
Alcohol units - none - I'm at work. I don't really want to get sacked over Vodka.
Been one month without ciggis. Impressive.
8:30
9:00 am: meeting Jonathan Harris.
BD: Straight A student never got into trouble.
AD: Failing most classes and lit his neighbor's dog on fire.
Hmmmm: Plan of attack is necessary - maybe get him talking by telling him about the time "Little Bess" lit a couch on fire. Of course, I was 22, drunk, and dealing with a v. bad breakup.
(It was the cad's couch)
5:00 pm: HOORAH!! Miguel is coming home - must surprise him by coming home early to make wonderful meal.
1:00 am: Expect another call from Sean - apparently, he's still searching for Bobbies who take bribes. V. bad.
January 3, Thursday
8:30 am.
- Has been worst 24 hours of my entire life
#1: Jonathan Harris is, apparently, suicidal. v. bad. v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v. bad. And, I am supposed to help him - have never dealt with a suicidal kid before. This could very well get me sacked.
- Actually, I might have to quit because of the depression I am in here, now.
#2: Was threatened to be sacked if things didn't go well with Jonathan Harris.
#3: Miguel came home v. early - in order to surprise ME with candle-lit dinner. v. romantic.
Beautiful Spanish music filled the room. Also, v. romantic. Well, we kissed, fooled around a bit, and decided to save desert for last. :)
We were halfway through dinner when he said, "I was thinking."
v. bad.
"About what?" I asked, trying v. hard not to freak out.
"About us."
v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v. bad.
Am panicking now.
Forget not freaking out.
"Well, em, what about us?"
In dreadful need of a cigarette.
Have stopped eating by that point.
"I've been offered work in Paris. I want to go."
Oh, God. In danger of losing the one Spaniard I have ever loved to France. Bullocks.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
He looked surprised at this. (He had stopped eating too.) "No! Of course not!" He paused a moment. "Bess, I wanted you to come with me. I love you." He pulled out a little box.
v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v. bad.
"Will you marry me? He opened the little box.
Have lost ability to speak.
Dead silence consumes the room.
Cannot hear the music anymore.
Heart pounding.
Breathing shaky.
Suddenly, the Bess part of me (As opposed to the Jones part of me) took over. "No."
"What?"
"I can't marry you."
"What?"
"I can't leave England! I'm not going to pick up and leave my whole life just for you! I can't do that!"
"Bess, this is supposed to be true love!"
"I'm sorry, Miguel. I'm not getting married to you or to anyone else."
He got up and threw his napkin on his plate. "It might just work, Bess." He picked up the ring. "You may not get your heart broken, but you'll never find true love, and you'll never be happy. Have fun now, Bess, because you're going to die alone."
Then, he stormed out of my flat. And, I'll never see him again.
#4: Sean called again at 1 a.m.
I was dreaming I was the grim reaper."
"Em?"
"Bess!"
"Who the hell else would it be?"
"Yes, well. I need you again."
"Bugar off, Sean!" I hung up.
He called me later to tell me he spent the entire night in a jail cell with a chap named Henry. Sean said that Henry liked to be called "Henrietta" instead.
I told him I was going to unplug my telephone tonight.
I'm taking a few weeks off. I'll give Jonathan Harris to someone else.
Bess Jones
Weight - Same as yesterday. I expect, since I never eat Mum's cooking - her gravy looked somewhat alive.
Alcohol units - none - I'm at work. I don't really want to get sacked over Vodka.
Been one month without ciggis. Impressive.
8:30
9:00 am: meeting Jonathan Harris.
BD: Straight A student never got into trouble.
AD: Failing most classes and lit his neighbor's dog on fire.
Hmmmm: Plan of attack is necessary - maybe get him talking by telling him about the time "Little Bess" lit a couch on fire. Of course, I was 22, drunk, and dealing with a v. bad breakup.
(It was the cad's couch)
5:00 pm: HOORAH!! Miguel is coming home - must surprise him by coming home early to make wonderful meal.
1:00 am: Expect another call from Sean - apparently, he's still searching for Bobbies who take bribes. V. bad.
January 3, Thursday
8:30 am.
- Has been worst 24 hours of my entire life
#1: Jonathan Harris is, apparently, suicidal. v. bad. v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v. bad. And, I am supposed to help him - have never dealt with a suicidal kid before. This could very well get me sacked.
- Actually, I might have to quit because of the depression I am in here, now.
#2: Was threatened to be sacked if things didn't go well with Jonathan Harris.
#3: Miguel came home v. early - in order to surprise ME with candle-lit dinner. v. romantic.
Beautiful Spanish music filled the room. Also, v. romantic. Well, we kissed, fooled around a bit, and decided to save desert for last. :)
We were halfway through dinner when he said, "I was thinking."
v. bad.
"About what?" I asked, trying v. hard not to freak out.
"About us."
v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v. bad.
Am panicking now.
Forget not freaking out.
"Well, em, what about us?"
In dreadful need of a cigarette.
Have stopped eating by that point.
"I've been offered work in Paris. I want to go."
Oh, God. In danger of losing the one Spaniard I have ever loved to France. Bullocks.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
He looked surprised at this. (He had stopped eating too.) "No! Of course not!" He paused a moment. "Bess, I wanted you to come with me. I love you." He pulled out a little box.
v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v.v. bad.
"Will you marry me? He opened the little box.
Have lost ability to speak.
Dead silence consumes the room.
Cannot hear the music anymore.
Heart pounding.
Breathing shaky.
Suddenly, the Bess part of me (As opposed to the Jones part of me) took over. "No."
"What?"
"I can't marry you."
"What?"
"I can't leave England! I'm not going to pick up and leave my whole life just for you! I can't do that!"
"Bess, this is supposed to be true love!"
"I'm sorry, Miguel. I'm not getting married to you or to anyone else."
He got up and threw his napkin on his plate. "It might just work, Bess." He picked up the ring. "You may not get your heart broken, but you'll never find true love, and you'll never be happy. Have fun now, Bess, because you're going to die alone."
Then, he stormed out of my flat. And, I'll never see him again.
#4: Sean called again at 1 a.m.
I was dreaming I was the grim reaper."
"Em?"
"Bess!"
"Who the hell else would it be?"
"Yes, well. I need you again."
"Bugar off, Sean!" I hung up.
He called me later to tell me he spent the entire night in a jail cell with a chap named Henry. Sean said that Henry liked to be called "Henrietta" instead.
I told him I was going to unplug my telephone tonight.
I'm taking a few weeks off. I'll give Jonathan Harris to someone else.
Bess Jones