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APRIL. INNER POISE
9st, alcohol units 0 (marvellous), cigarettes 0, calories 2250.
I read in an article that Kathleen Tynan, late. Wife of the late Ke
Lately, therefore, whenever things have risked ranging out of control, I have repeated the phrase 'i
My body is a temple. I wonder if it's time to go to bed yet? Oh no, it's only 8.30. I
9 p.m. It was my father, speaking in a weird, disco
'Bridget. Turn your television set to BBC 1.'
I switched cha
'Nick,' said A
' . . . and we'll be introducing, our new Springtime Slot,' said Nick, "Suddenly Single" – a dilemma being faced by a growing number of women. A
'And introducing spanking new presenter Pam Jones said A
While A
'Have you had suicidal thoughts?' boomed my mother.
'Yes,' said the mousy woman and burst into tears at which point the picture froze, turned on its end and whizzed off into one comer to reveal A
Dad was devastated. Mum hadn't even told him about the TV-presenting job. It seems he is in denial and has convinced himself Mum is just having an end-of-life crisis and that she already realizes she has made a mistake but is too embarrassed to ask to come back.
Actually, I'm all for denial. You can convince yourself of any scenario you choose and it keeps you as happy as a sandboy – as long as your ex-partner doesn't pop up on your television screen forging a new career out of not being married to you any more. I tried to pretend it didn't mean there was no hope, and that Mum might be pla
Determined, now, to tackle constant lateness for work and failure to address in-tray bulging with threats from bailiffs, etc. Resolve to begin self-improvement programme with time-and-motion study.
7 a.m. Get weighed.
7.03 a.m. Return to bed in sulk over weight. Head-state bad. Sleeping or getting up equally out of question. Think about Daniel.
7.30 a.m. Hunger pains force self out of bed. Make coffee, consider grapefruit. Defrost chocolate croissant.
7.35-7.50 a.m. Look out of window.
7.55 a.m. Open wardrobe. Stare at clothes.
8 am. Select shirt. Try to find black Lycra miniskirt. Pull clothes out of bottom of wardrobe in quest for skirt. Go through drawers and search behind bedroom chair. Go through ironing basket. Go through dirty linen basket. Skirt has vanished. Have cigarette to cheer self up.
8.20 a.m. Dry skin brushing (anti-cellulite), bath and hairwash.
8.35 a.m. Begin selection of underwear. Laundry crisis means only available pants are vast white cotton. Too unattractive to contemplate, even for work (psychological damage). Go back to ironing basket. Find unsuitably small black lacy pair – prickly but better than giant Mummy-pant horror.
8.45 a.m. Start on black opaque tights. Pair one seems to have Shrunk – crotch is three inches above knees. Get second pair on and find hole on back of leg. Throw away. Suddenly remember had Lycra mini-skirt on when returned home with Daniel last time. Go to living room. Triumphantly locate skirt between cushions on sofa.
8.55 a.m. Return to tights. Pair three have hole only in toe. Put on. Hole transforms into ladder which will protrude tellingly from shoe. Go to ironing basket. Locate last pair of black opaque tights twisted into rope-like object speckled with bits of tissue. Untangle and purge of tissue.
9.05 a.m. Have got tights on now. Add skirt. Begin ironing shirt.
9.10 a.m. Suddenly realize hair is drying in weird shape. Search for hairbrush. Locate in handbag. Blow-dry hair. Will not go right. Spray with plant spray and blow some more.
9.40 a.m. Return to ironing and discover stubborn stain on front of shirt. All other possible shirts dirty. Panic about time. Try to wash out stain. Entire shirt now soaking wet. Iron dry.
9.55 a.m. V. late now. In despair, have fag and read holiday brochure for calming five minutes.
10 a.m. Try to find handbag. Handbag has vanished. Decide to see if anything nice has come in the mail.
10.07 a.m. Access letter only, about non-payment of minimum payment, Try to remember what was looking for. Restart quest for handbag.
10.15 a.m. Beyond lateness now. Suddenly remember had handbag in bedroom when looking for hairbrush but ca
10.25 a.m. Find keys in handbag. Realize have forgotten hairbrush.
10.35 a.m . Leave house.
Three hours and thirty-five minutes between waking and leaving house is too long. In future must get straight up when wake and reform entire laundry system. Open up paper to read that convicted murderer in America is convinced the authorities have planted a microchip in his buttocks to monitor his movements, so to speak. Horrified by thought of similar microchip being in own buttocks, particularly in the mornings.
8st 13, alcohol units 5 (Jude's fault), cigarettes 2 (sort of thing that could happen to anyone – does not mean have started smoking again), calories 1765, Instants 2.
Told Jude today about the i
Went to meet Jude for quiet drink to talk about Flow some more and noticed a familiar besuited figure with knitting-pattern dark good looks sitting in a quiet corner having di
I could tell Jeremy was going to try to get away with the sort of quick 'Hello not now' look which acknowledges your close, old and enduring friendship but at the same time demonstrates that this is not the moment to affirm it with kisses and an in-depth chat. I was about to play along with it but then I thought, hang on a minute! Sisters! Under the skin! Magda! If Magda's husband has nothing to be ashamed of in dining with this worthless trollop in my suit, he will introduce me.
I altered my path to pass his table, at which he immersed himself deep in conversation with the trollop, glancing up as I walked past and giving me a firm, confident smile as if to say 'business meeting.' I gave him a look which said, 'Don't you business meeting me,' and strutted on.
What should I do now, though? Oh dear, oh dear. Tell Magda? Not tell Magda? Ring Magda and ask if everything's OK? Ring Jeremy and ask him if everything's OK? Ring Jeremy and threaten to tell Magda unless he drops the witch in my suit? Mind my own business?
Remembering Zen, Kathleen Tynan and I