Monday January 20th 2014
65.2kg, Brilliant ideas 1, Startling revelations also 1
Have decided that lying in bed at night not sleeping is a completely ridiculous use of my time. Will download Bridget Jones: Mad about the boy and read that instead, because I am quite fond of Bridget and she always makes me feel skinny.
Have realised that if I was British, and a little bit chubbier with two children, a gay best friend, and a dead husband, I could quite possibly be exactly like Bridget. We are almost exactly two peas in a pod. Clearly I must write a diary just like hers.
Tuesday January 21st, 2014
66.1kg, Pages of new book read 0, massive displays of emotion 2
It’s IBOT night tonight, so clearly no time to indulge in my British twin’s diary. Also feeling rather emotional. I think it’s because it’s national hug day, and despite the fact that I am not a hugger, no one even attempted to do so.
Boatman called tonight! Got permission from the Sat phone Nazi’s who guard every minute of what I am sure must be a gold-plated telephone. Didn’t hear much of what he had to say though on account of ridiculous delay and rather overt display of tears as I tried to explain “I (sob) didn’t (sob sob) think (sob) you (sob sob sob) were going (sob) to call (sob sob) me today (sob sob sob etc etc). I did manage to gauge that he will attempt to call in the morning to speak with the kids.
Wednesday January 22nd, 2014
65.7kgs, pages read 17, successful fb status updates 2
I have decided today that I am nothing like Bridget. Rather I am an angst filled teenager suffering the effects of unrequited love, and as such must listen to all the love songs ever written. Particularly ones that featured at my wedding.
Have run out of soppy love songs. Will ask FB followers if they have any ideas, under the guise of ‘serious blog research’
Am deliriously happy. Facebook allowed my post to get seen by more than 15 people, and all the smokers on Boatman’s boat run out of ciggies, forcing him to drive into Boroloola to buy more. They have phone reception in Boroloola and we got to speak for a whole 45 minutes! I was able to actually find out half of what he does out there, and refrained from crying even once. I have no need for Bridget tonight, because my life is clearly superior and nothing like hers, but I will still read a little cause it’s good to care for the less fortunate. Even if they are fictional.
Thursday January 23rd
65.2kg’s, pages read 5, quilt slabs sewn 4
Turns out being spoilt on the phone has made today so much more unbearable, so I perked myself up with sewing quilt slabs and dressing up my pillow as Boatman. Have also written an incredibly brilliant post comprising all ridiculous love songs, so that it did actually qualify as blog research. Will celebrate by going to bed early and reading till I fall asleep.
Spoiler alert- Mr Darcy is no longer. Bridget is now forced to look after her kids on her own and try not to drink to much wine. Hitting too close to home tonight, the whole being alone thing.
Saturday 25th January 2014
66.6 kg (really????) Pages read, 0, accolades received from children, at least 7
I have regained my best mother ever status. Apparently taking my kids to the skate park and then buying new sock storage solutions is the key to their hearts. Whilst I am feeling grossly inadequate, and my little boy is desperately missing his daddy, they are all quite quick to praise me on anything done right. This clearly calls for an excellent celebratory dinner of noodles. That is what perfect mothers serve after all.
Sunday 26th January 2014
65.7kg, Episodes of Grey’s Anatomy watched, 4, Australia Day activities attended 0
Was a completely ridiculous excuse for Australia Day. My fantastic plans to take the kids down to the beach (and be super mum two days straight), were thwarted by a door that refused to lock, and required me to call for help from the pastor of the church. Not a bad solution really, as the door required particular parts that needed to be acquired from Bunnings so Super Pastor took the small boy with him and they engaged in obligatory male behaviour. Meanwhile I managed to convince pastors wife to do some of my ironing under the guise of showing her my new iron. Winning all around.
After previous weeks complete fail at cooking sausages, kids were fed frozen sausages rolls with salad, which I think is kind of Australian and was all that was happening under the circumstances.
Stop reading Bridget Jones to do a Safari type calculation converting pounds to kilo’s. Quite heartbroken to discover that after her weight loss, BJ now weighs less than me! That has never happened! Resolve to never eat anything fatty ever again, and console myself that I am probably far more muscular, and have lots more twitter followers.
Monday 27th January 2014
Weight 64.1kg (Huzzah!), Chocolate Honeycomb Squares Consumed, 2, Minutes spent looking in the mirror for signs of a muscular frame 142 (approx), minutes on the couch under sick child also 142 (approx), texts sent questioning the sexual innuendo on Pepper Pig, 1
Did extra time on the exercise bike today in order to beat Bridget, who I’m sure has wobbly thighs. Which, granted mine are a little bit, but are approaching tonededness (totally a word.) Extra exercise time thankfully came before small child burnt up with raging fever and then threw up everywhere. Just like what happened to Bridget, proving that we are, of course, exactly the same. Except that she weighs slightly less and I am far more popular on Twitter. (Take that @JonesyBJ!)
Have decided that it really is imperative that Boatman come home soon, because everything is starting to sound vaguely dirty, and I’m about to ban TV from the house. Unless it’s Grey’s Anatomy of course, which is never as filthy as Pepper Pig. Speaking of Pepper Pig, I am resolving to be much more like Miss Rabbit, who is able to pretty much do anything. And possibly weighs more than me, whilst having less twitter followers. Which is clearly important.
Have finished writing IBOT post and scheduled for tomorrow. It will mean absolutely nothing to anyone who doesn’t like Bridget Jones. Have brief Bridget-esque panic attack about how I will cope if they unfollow me on Twitter, until I remember it doesn’t really matter. And I’m actually nothing like Bridget at all.
I bet I’m actually skinnier than her anyway.