BJ Bridget Jones‘s Diary

BJ Bridget Jones's Diary

Helen Fielding

5.0
Comment(s)
219
View
13
Chapters

Bridget Jones's Diary is a 1996 novel by Helen Fielding. Written in the form of a personal diary, the novel chronicles a year in the life of Bridget Jones, a thirty-something single working woman living in London. She writes about her career, self-image, vices, family, friends, and romantic relationships.

Chapter 1

New year's resolution I Will NotDrink more than fourteen alcohol units a week.Smoke.Waste money on: pasta-makers, ice-cream machines or other culinary devices which will never use; books by unreadable literary authors to put impressively on shelves; exotic underwear, since pointless as have no boyfriend.Behave sluttishly around the house, but instead imagine others are watching.Spend more than earn.Allow in-tray to rage out of control.

Fall for any of following: alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, people with girlfriends or wives, misogynists, megalomaniacs, chauvinists, emotional fuckwits or freeloaders, perverts.Get annoyed with Mum, Una Alconbury or Perpetua.Get upset over men, but instead be poised and cool ice-queen.Have crushes on men, but instead from relationships based on mature assessment of character.Bitch about anyone behind their backs, but be positive about everyone.Obsess about Daniel Cleaver as pathetic to have a crush on boss in manner of Miss Moneypenny or similar.Sulk about having no boyfriend, but develop inner poise and authority and sense of self as woman of substance, complete without boyfriend, as best way to obtain boyfriend.I WillStop smoking.Drink no more than fourteen alcohol units a week.Reduce circumference of thights by 3 inches (i.e. 11/2 inches each), using anti-cellulite diet.Purge flat of all extraneous matter.Give all clothes which have not worn for two years or more to homeless.Improve career and find new job with potential.Save up money in front of savings. Poss start pension also.Be more confident.Be more assertive.Make better use of time.Not go out every night but stay in and read books and listen to dassical music.Give proportion of earnings to charity.Be kinder and help others more.Eat more pulses.Get up straight away when wake up in mornings.Go to gym three times a week not merely to buy sandwich.Put photographs in photograph albums.Make up compilation 'mood' tapes so can have tapes ready with all favourite romantic/dancing/rousing/feminist etc. tracks assembled instead of turning into drink – sodden DJ – style person with tapes scattered all over floor.Form functional relationship with responsible adult.Learn to programme video.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book