Bridget Jones a Reality

I used to laugh out loud at the old bat Miss Jones, Bridget and the original one from Rising Damp. Now I am nearing 31 and I am beginning to realise that to snigger at a poor woman's inadequacies at getting along in life with or without a mate is not on. I would only be laughing at some of my girl friends. Drinking a bottle of red or two on a Monday night could only be stuff of the movies I pressumed, but it is so true these days, and it is not even winter.
It is such a bummer our clock ticks as quick as the egg timers sand when you are trying to put a load in the wash, rinse the dishes, cut the bread and sweep the laminate flooring all before one manages to even open the egg box. Sometimes I think it would be so easy to be a middle aged divorced man wit a gold digger pleasuring him on a weekly basis.
This is why we get a dog.