Friday 8 September

9st (easier to lose weight when Daniel is away); cigarettes, 30 (worrying whether Daniel is safe in Frankfurt); alcohol units, 12 (whole alcohol problem is Daniel's fault); calories, only 900 (you see); Instants, 9.

11am: Office.

Oh God! Cannot concentrate this morning. Last night got message from Dad asking me to meet him for dinner tonight followed by message from Jude - in tears - asking me to meet her for dinner tonight. Feel awful because I know I should help - Jude being my friend, and Dad having given me the gift of life - but they might at least have told me they were sleeping together before they start asking me to be Friar Lawrence when they split up.

Anyway, how am I supposed to cheer up Jude? I can't exactly say "Bloody bastard! never liked him anyway" about my own father, can I? Wish Perpetua would stop hovering around like an enormous seagull.

11.30: Just called Tom, who says I am not assertive enough and constantly tossed about by the demands of others. He told me about an assertiveness course when everyone was asked to assemble a chair which was impossible to assemble. The men said: "It's completely absurd. Impossible to assemble," while the women all apologised for being too stupid to assemble the chair. He said Jude and Dad was an impossible situation for me to deal with and I should refuse to get involved. He is right.

11.45: Still feel guilty, though.

12.00: Just had brilliant idea. Rang Dad's answerphone and left message saying I'd see him at Cafe Rouge at 8.30. Then left a message for Jude telling her the same thing and am not going to turn up. Brilliant. So they will be thrown back together without me having to do anything.

12.10: Just rang Tom to tell him and he says I am a mindless moron. Oh, shit! How could I have been so stupid? Don't even want Dad to be going out with Jude anyway.

12.15: Perpetua has just blown her top at me for not doing any work.

11pm: Humph. Spent entire afternoon dithering about situation, then left messages on both their answerphones saying I couldn't make it. Practically in tears at complication of it all.

Got home to find message from Dad saying he wouldn't be able to make it and Jude saying tonight was fine. Didn't know whether she meant fine to my first message or the second, so I went to Cafe Rouge anyway. Neither of them turned up. Returned home to message from Daniel, saying he was back early and did I want to come out for dinner to Le Caprice. Then another message saying that since I was out he was taking Perpetua.

Saturday 16 September

9st 3; alcohol units, 5 (I rest my case); cigarettes, 17; calories, 3,200; number of correct Lottery numbers, 2 (excellent).

Tonight Daniel and I went to see The Bridges of Madison County and I cried. Afterwards I was going on about how brilliant it was to have a film which was about love at the end of people's lives, and showing a woman over 40 as the love interest, but that I would now like to see a 60-year-old woman as the love interest and a man in his forties. Also it was marvellous to have a romantic hero who kept offering to do the washing up. Daniel said I was the Bridget of Madperson Ranty and it was time to shut up now or he wasn't having dinner with me. He then spent the entire meal taking the piss out of Meryl Streep's accent and fluttering hands, claiming the first thing Clint Eastwood said when he auditioned her was: "Now, you're not going to do one of your accents, are you?" I got into a sulk and said he was shallow and it wasn't nearly as bad as "I had a farm in Africa . . ."

When we got home I wanted to discuss it further but he put Match of the Day on and drank half a pint of whisky then fell asleep. Sometimes I think I am going to chuck Daniel and go out with someone more sensitive who understands me, like, um, well, anyway.

Sunday 17 September

(Number of serious articles read: 11)

Got absolutely incensed this morning in bed with the paper. Absolutely cannot believe the Government is planning to slash its aid budget to the poorest countries by 50 per cent or more. Didn't they notice from Live Aid that their voters do not want the rest of the world to starve? Idiotic bastards, out of touch with the mood of the Nineties. I told Daniel I was going to write to my MP and he asked me who that was, which unfortunately I didn't know. Glenda Jackson maybe? Or that chap who's a homosexual? Anyway, that isn't the point. Then he got all snuggly and said he hated it when I turned into a virago, and why not try on my Tarts and Vicars outfit to see how it looked after my diet? I said, what diet? He said, "But you've lost loads of weight." I was so surprised and delighted, I said I would try on the Bunny girl outfit. As I was putting it on he started laughing and wouldn't tell me why. Eventually he said he'd distracted me from the plight of the world's starving by telling me I'd lost weight and what was it I'd said last night about him being shallow?

I think he has a point and in future I am going to be better informed and more serious-minded about world affairs.