Monday 11 Januaray

126 lbs (hurrah! increased shagging leads to weightloss!), alcohol units: not important really (what with shagging and all), calories 1564 (need food in order to stay in top form), number times left house in three day weekend 0 (well, unless you count opening the door for the delivery man)

8:45am: Think have finaly recovered from Turry Curry Buffet. Mark just finished a case, and since I only have to work when I want (love the lovley work-when-ever-I-want freelance job) we spent the three day weekend in bed. Well, more all over the house really. Mmm. Wonder what I should do today. Best call Jude and see what she says.

9:00am: Pft. Jude said she was in the middle of some important meeting, but we'll have lunch at 192. Best invite Shaz too.

3:45pm: Lunch went very well. Jude suggested that I call Adam at the Independent, and ask if there are any celebrities I could interview. Really is very good idea. Maybe he will let me be a reporter for a premire. All the stars will stop by and answer all my questions. Will become known as world's best primere journalist, and be invited to all the best posh parites. HAH!

4:15pm: BUGGER! Must call Shaz, Jude, Tom and Magda for emergancy sumbit!

1:01am: Hah! That'll show the bassard. No one-oops, lamp there- makes fool of Bridget Jonzzzz.

Tuesday 12 Januaray

128 lbs (stress adds weight I once heard), alcohol units: 23 (v. good concidering the circamstances), calories 3400 (greesy bar food), number times immagined horrified look on Colin Firth's face: 431

11:54am: Ugh. Mark left note taped to my head. Bloody incinsitive of him really. Think will protest by not reading. He could have left it on the pillow. What kind of person leaves a note on their partner's forehead?

12:05pm: Oh god. Memory of yesterday just came back.

I was thinking of phoning Adam, when the phone rang.

"'lo?"

"May I speak with Bridget please?"

"This is Bridget."

"This is Adam, from the Independent."

"I was just about to call y-"

"You're set to interview Colin Firth Wednesday at the Savoy, room number 314-"

"Colin Firth? You must be joking, I mean"

"Be there."

Then he hung up. Just like that. No bloody conisderation for me at all. Doesn't he remember what happened last time? Ugh!

Tom suggested I suddenly go into labour, but then we had debacle of acting being pregnant. Jude suggested I go in, then throw up, and Shaz suggested I walk into Adam's office, and throw somthing. Magda wondered what the fuss was about.

"Well you already interviewed him once didn't you? It shouldn't be so horrible a second time? What's the film name?"

"The Importance of Being Ernie, or something."

"There you go. I'm sure he won't even remember you."

Was sure Magda wasn't right, but decided not to argue, but to drink. Spent most of the night trying to remember not to ask about the Shirt or if he'd ever leave his wife for a thirty-something journalist.