Snoozing in the loos

Got an email from a colleague sitting a few feet away, warning me that she was thinking of making an extended trip to the loo, to have a good sleep. Reminds me of a friend in an extraordinarily high-powered job who is so intimidated by his superiors that he hides in the executive bathroom at lunch time to read Sherlock Holmes.

Was flicking through the beginning of good old Bridget Jones' Diary, and I hit on something which made me laugh on and off all afternoon, something I couldn't remember from my previous readings. Bridget is at that awful New Years Day party at Una's, and Mr Darcy turns round to reveal that his jumper, innocuous enough from the back, actually has ghastly diamond pattern - the kind ageing sporting enthusiasts tend to favour. Bridget recalls the wise words from her gay friend Tom: attention to detail when on the lookout for potential dates can save one vast amount of time and money. Immediately rule out people with: white socks and black shoes, home knitted jumpers, the odd swastika... (not exact - I don't have the book to hand...)

I also love the bit when Bridget's mother rings her in August, asking her what she would like for Christmas. 'One of those super-dooper suitcases on wheels that air-hosteses have. Now. Would you like red on navy or navy on red?'

I don't know why exactly, but so much of life's inanity and tedium is encapsulated in that sentence: 'red on navy or navy on red?'

Have decided that I love Bridget. I know that she is not great feminist example - so much fretting about men and weight, sense of self entirely dependent on outside affirmation etc etc - but she is funny and nice and doesn't take herself too seriously. She reminds me of a quote that I love: 'If you can't be a good example, you'll just have to be an awful warning.'