Diary of a first-time non-voter
'Tony Blair and William Hague just aren't interested in Bridget's thirtysomething, un-unemployed, childless, no-longer-in-education, fairly-comfortable, doesn't-live-in-the-countryside kinda life.'
I feel sorry for Bridget Jones – and not just because she’s lumpy and lonely and has a friend named ‘Shazza’.
You can’t blame the poor woman for feeling unappreciated and ignored. Okay, she does have two (debatably) attractive men in the form of Colin Firth and Hugh Grant chasing her around – but what about that other pair of enticing men, who are more concerned with vying for other people’s attentions than hers?
Tony Blair and William Hague just aren’t interested in Bridget’s thirtysomething, un-unemployed, childless, no-longer-in-education, fairly-comfortable, doesn’t-live-in-the-countryside kinda life. She is one of the invisible people whom the likes Tony and William don’t even try to pull.
Come the general election, you can imagine Bridget getting home from work and scribbling away….
Oh – almost forgot to mention, today is my third time as a non voter – got chatting in Pret-a-Manger and it slipped my mind. Got depressed later thinking about it. Those politician types were always more interested in my granny than me. They’ve been trying to excite her with promises to keep her warm and cosy in the winter – a friendly pat on the pensioner’s knee, and all that.
I knew I should have become a single mum after that little accident at Shazza’s party – they would have been all over me then. My mother says I’m just going through a phase, an in-between stage and that things will change when I settle down and have a family – kids that need to be educated well. But I only wanted to be wooed.
So from today I have resolved to do the things which make me the prime target for political action campaigns.
Two journeys on underground – one delayed – I’m a frustrated commuter. V.g. Made inquiries into joining the Women’s Institute so that Tony would want to impress me – felt a little out of place, hmmm.
Ate a beef burger.
Still working on pregnancy.
God, is this what my diary will read like in 10 years’ time?
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