It's me, Bridget.

It’s the end of day #11 in Norway.

There’s -4 degrees outside. I’ve worked nine shifts. Been to the gym once. Gone into a permanent state of rehab. Fallen in love with Gordon Ramsay. Applied to one job. Called Ingrid 33 times. Missed the UK 1,000 times, ish.

I generally feel like this:


Odd resemblance going on here, as I think of it.. I’m trying to find a suitable job, I’ve gained weight, I’m currently wearing a fleece jumper, and I am, all of a sudden, single.

Now, let’s just hope that I will land a job as a TV presenter so I can slide down a fireman’s pole. Then, my life would be complete.

Ps: I’m not complaining. Simply stating facts.