Writer David Whitehouse once lost a bet to his mother and had to watch the first Bridget Jones film all the way through without sighing

Wednesday 4 September

11st (Nasa coming round to check unshiftable mass isn’t a previously undiscovered planet), alcohol units 0, electronic cigs, erm… one never-ending one, calories 1,500, plus sandwich, cake and things. Don’t care.

6pm Entire day at work wasted trying to decide which dating website (portal? Channel? Platform?) is best for a single mother in her late 40s with no interest in dating. Paula, my assistant, says Guardian Soulmates, but she’s still young and so clings to ideals. And it looks full of tired home counties headmasters. Melanie in accounts says MySingleFriend. She says that being a woman on there is like slicing your toes off and dipping your feet into a tank full of men-shaped piranhas. Apparently you get a thousand emails a minute that all say, “Hey babe what u up to?” WTF? No thanks. She offered to write my profile. Would be more effective to stand in shop window covered in brie.

Kelly the intern reckons I should try Tinder.

“What’s Tinder?” I said. “Is it a drug?”

“It’s a new dating app.”

“Just what I need. Ten thousand hipsters looking at my photo and asking if I’m Judy Finnigan.”

“I’m on it.”

“You’re 19. You haven’t lost the battle to stop your bottom eating your legs. Yet.”

They made me promise to write a dating profile by tomorrow. That’s my homework for the night.

7.15pm Bought Grease box set on eBay. No idea why.

7.30pm Cleaver dropped the boy off. Saw him under the light and was delighted to find out he’s started to resemble a scrotum. (Cleaver, not boy.)

9pm Boy in bed. Sometimes I wonder if he wishes I was an iPad.

10pm Looked at old pics of Cleaver on Facebook. Time, you really are a brilliant, brilliant bastard.

Started trying to internet date but got distracted. Been two years and I still can’t think of anything to tweet, so I went for a picture of my tabbouleh. Which sounds a bit rude. Was then engaged in a charming dialogue:

@BENJILUVSLIFE: that looks like dog sick. Ur a fat old cow.

@bridgetjones48: I’m sorry, is that for me? Still not sure how to use this thing.

@bridgetjones48: Only really came to see what Stephen Fry says. Or Chris off Autumnwatch.

@BENJILUVSLIFE: imma gonna rob you fat cow YOLO.

Hmm. My first troll. Actually really unpleasant. BUT HE HAS GIVEN ME AN IDEA. Don’t know what a YOLO is, but it would be a good name for a LOw calorie YOgurt. NOTE – POSS NEW BUSINESS PLAN. Kate Middleton looks nice on the news. She’s only just had a baby. Where does she keep the baby weight? In her hair?

Thursday 5 September

154lbs, units 8, electronic cigs, one never-ending one, calories erm… one never-ending one.

Seven women in office wearing same dress Kate Middleton wore on the news. Everyone keen to know how my foray into internet dating went, so I told them. “One weirdly aggressive chat about low-cal organic yogurt with a chap who some simple Google research told me is a 15-year-old from Nuneaton who likes Call Of Duty, Drake and ‘BITCHEZ’. I’d add ‘virgin’ to that CV.”

The internet makes anyone sane want to be single for the rest of their life. I’m fine with that. Going for an Aperol spritz.

Bridget and… her friends

“So… how’s your love life Bridge?”