Thursday 14 December
3; alcohol units, 2 (bad, as did not drink any units yesterday. Must
make up extra tomorrow to avoid heart attack); cigarettes, 14 (bad? Or
maybe good? Yes: a sensible level of nicotine units is probably good for
me as long as do not binge-smoke); calories, 1,500 (excellent); Instants
4 (bad but would have been good if Richard Branson had won non-profit-
making lottery bid); cards sent, 0; presents purchased 0.
confused. Want to be pleased by Stephen Dorrell's generous alcohol unit
increase but feel exactly the same as when I got down to 8st 7 and
everyone said I looked better before. It is like having a rug pulled
from under your feet: you don't know what you are aiming for or who you
are any more. Am going to have to go back over every week's records now
and will probably find was worrying about consuming too much when in
fact was underdrinking all along.
No, actually, I think I was OK. Easily doing 21. Fortunately.
it is obviously just another pathetic attempt to suck up to us, like the
tax cuts. If the Government really wants to ingratiate itself, why
doesn't it reassure us that we are OK and not wrong or inadequate? All
it ever does is criticise, criticise and make us people feel we are not
good enough - failing to play nicely at happy families and not having
jobs with large salaries as captains of industry. Anyone who has studied
self-help books in even the most perfunctory way will know that people
always respond best to encouragement rather than undermining.
would like to see Richard Branson as our Leader. It is impossible to
believe that Richard Branson would not be telling the truth about his
bribe since he has built up such a store of decency and honesty. I, too,
would wish to build up such a store if he were in charge, instead of
wishing, as now, that I were thin, rich and more drunk.
hate the Government: with its arrogant, manipulative "them and
us" attitude. Huh. In fact, I am going to join the Labour Party...
dong! Matt from the office asking if I'm going to the Christmas lunch on
Tuesday. He can't fancy me - I'm old enough to be his great aunt - but
then why did he ring me in the evening? And why did he ask me what I was
not get excited as v. bad to have affair with young whippersnapper in
office, however intelligent and divine.
ring Sharon immediately. Sexually tantalising Christmas lunch followed
bizarrely by disco-dancing in afternoon (such being Editor's idea of a
good time) involves severe outfit choice complexity.
Tuesday 19 December
7 (but still nearly 1 week to lose half stone before Christmas); alcohol
units, 9 (VG); cigarettes, 30; calories, 4,000; Instants, 1 (excellent);
cards sent, 0; cards received, 11 but including 2 from paper boy, 1 from
dustmen, 1 from Peugeot garage and 1 from hotel spent night in for work
4 years ago. Am unpopular. Or maybe everyone sending cards later this
Oh God, feel awful: horrible sick acidic hangover and today is office
disco lunch. Cannot go on. Am going to burst with pressure of
unperformed Christmas tasks, like revision for finals. Have failed to do
cards or Christmas shopping, apart from doomed panic buy yesterday
lunchtime as realised was going to see girls for last time before
Christmas at Magda and Jeremy's last night.
the exchange of presents with friends as, unlike with the family, there
is no way of knowing who is and isn't going to give and whether they
will be tokens or proper presents so all becomes hideous exchange of
sealed bids. Two years ago I bought Magda lovely Dinny Hall ear-rings,
rendering her embarrassed and miserable because she hadn't bought me
anything, so last year I didn't get her anything and she bought me an
expensive bottle of Chanel. This year, therefore, I bought her a big VG
bottle of Double Never-So-Much-As-Seen-A-Man Olive Oil and a distressed
wire soap dish and she went into a complete grump, muttering obvious
lies about not having done her Christmas shopping yet. Last year Sharon
gave me bubble bath shaped like Santa - so last night I just gave her
Body Shop Algae and Polyp oil shower, at which point she presented me
with a handbag. I had wrapped up a spare bottle of posh olive oil as a
generalised emergency gift, which fell out of my coat and broke on
Magda's pounds 500 Conran Shop dhurrie.
Would that Christmas could just be without presents. It is just so
stupid everyone exhausting themselves miserably haemorrhaging money on
pointless items nobody wants, no longer tokens of love but angst-ridden
solutions to problems. Humph.
had Mum on the phone. "Darling, I've just rung to say I've decided.
I'm not doing presents this year. You and Jamie know there isn't a Santa
now and we're all far too busy. We can just appreciate each others'
we always get presents from Santa in sacks at the bottom of our beds.
World seems bleak and grey. Won't seem like Christmas any more.
God, better go to work - but will not have anything to drink at disco
lunch, just be friendly and professional to Matt, stay till about 3.30pm
then leave and do my Christmas cards.
Tuesday/Wednesday night, 2am.
is OK - everyone drunks office Chrstmas parties. Is a goodfun. Must gust
sleep - doen mattr about clothesoff.