Page 231 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING
P. 231
Richard Finch now just either ignores me or shakes his head disbelieving
whenever he comes anywhere near me, and I have been given nothing to do all
day.
Oh God, I'm so depressed. I thought I'd found something I was good at for
once and now it's all ruined, and on top of everything else it is the horrible ruby
wedding party on Saturday and I have nothing to wear. I'm no good at anything.
Not men. Not social skills. Not work. Nothing.
