"Look," said Shaz. "Shut up. You're drunk."
"I feel sort of justified," I said thoughtfully and carefully. Started to explain that have long suspected Smug Married world of Geoffrey and Una was not all it seemed and that therefore am not freak and that living together in normal heterosexual couple is not God-instructed only way.
"Bridge, shut up. You're drunk as well," said Shaz. "Hurrahs Let's bring it back to ourselves. There's nothing more annoying than being distracted from our own self-obsession by others," said Tom.
All got really plastered after that. Was completely fantastic evening. As Tom said, if Miss Havisham had had some jolly flatmates to take the piss out of her she would never have stayed so long in her wedding dress.
Monday 28 April
9st 2, alcohol units 0, cigarettes 0,
boyfriends 0, calls from Gary the Builder 0, Possibilities of new job 0 (Promising), gym visits 0, no. Of gym visits so far this year 1, cost of gym membership per year ?370; cost of single gym visit ?l23 (v. bad economy).
Right. Am definitely going to start gym programme today so can go round saying smugly "Yes it hurt. yes it worked," in manner of Conservative Party, and - in sharp contrast to them - everyone will believe me and think I am marvellous. Oh dear, though, is 9 o'clock. Will go tonight instead. Where the fuck is Gary?
Later. In office. Hahahahahahaha! Was marvellous at work today.
"So," said Richard Finch, when we were all assembled round the table. "Bridget. Tony Blair. Women's committees- New policies with Women in Mind, any suggestions? Nothing to do with Colin Firth if you can possibly manage it."
I smiled beatifically, glancing down at my notes, then looked up with poise and confidence.
"Tony Blair should introduce a code of Dating Practice for Singletons," I said eventually.
There was a jealous pause from all the other researchers round the table.
"That's it, is it?" said Richard Finch. "Yup," I said confidently.
"You don't think," he said, "that our potential new Prime Minister might have better things to do with his time?"
"Just think of the number of working hours lost through distraction, sulks, discussions to interpret situa
tions and waiting for the phone to ring," I said. "It must be easily on a par with back pain. Also, all other cultures have specific dating rituals, but we are operating in an ill defined sea with men and women increasingly alienated from each other."
At this, Horrid Harold let out a snort of derision.
"Oh God," drawled Patchouli, lounging with her Lycra cycle-shorted legs all over the table. "You can't proscribe people's emotional behaviour. That's fascism."
"No, no, Patchouli, you haven't been listening," I said strictly. "These would be just guidelines for sexual good manners. Since a quarter of all households are single, it would significantly help the nation's mental well being."
"I really think, in the run up to the election . . ." Horrid Harold sneerily began.
"No, wait," said Richard Finch chewing, twitching his leg up and down and looking at us oddly. "How many of you are married?"
Everyone stared foolishly at the table.
"So it's just me, is it?" he said. "Just me who's holding together the tattered shreds of the fabric of British society?"
Everyone tried not to look at Saskia, the researcher Richard had been shagging all summer till he abruptly lost interest and started on the sandwich girl.
"Mind you, I'm not surprised," he went on. "Who'd marry any of you? You're incapable of committing to fetching the cappuccinos let alone to one person for the rest of Your lives." At this Saskia let out a strange noise and shot out of the office.
Did a great deal of research all morning, making phone calls and talking to people. Was actually quite interesting that even those researchers who had pooh-poohed whole thing kept on coming out with suggestions.
"OK, Bridget," said Richard Finch just before lunch. "Let's hear this ground-breaking, great oeuvre."
Explained that Rome was not built in a day, and obviously had not completed whole work yet but these were lines was working along. I cleared my throat and began:
'Code Of Dating Practice'