Wednesday 13 January
130 lbs (v.g. as have heard Colin doens't like stick-insects), alcohol units 8, calories 1854, ciggaretts: 54 (help calm self) number times wanted to crawl under couch or similar furnature: 1,543,691
6:51am: Mm. Sun really is v. bright. Maybe for birthday Mark could find way to turn it down. Am sure have seen lots of telly programs where they do that. Seem to remember mice doing it once. Ugh. Who's calling at this time?
"Hello?"
"Right. Listen up Bridget..." is stupid Adam from Independent. "you've got till six, that's 11 hours from now, to get us your fucking article. ARTICLE, not transcript, article."
"Right. Got it."
"And Bridget, don't forget. You're meeting him at eleven at the Savoy. Don't fuck it up this time." Hmmmpf.
10:30am: GAH! Cannot find knickers anywhere!
10:59am: Mark finally found my knickers in the refridgorator. That's when I remembered I had left them in there to do a science experament, only cannot remember what actual experament was. Right. Room 31- GAH! Is *deffiantly* not that room, unless he has suddenly become transvestite. Not of course that there's anything wrong with that. But, well.
Here we are. Room 318. Think this is right room. Oh god. I can't do this. What if he remembers me? Will be absolute nightmare! I should just go right now an-
"Ms. Jones? If you'll come right this way we'll get you started."