A year in the Shit, Bridget Jones-style

Whenever I make a fresh attempt at writing a journal, I like to think of myself as an Australian (and not fictitious!) version of Bridget Jones.  I had toyed with starting each blog entry with a little summary of my day, in a direct rip-off of Bridget Jones' Diary.

Where hers would go something like:

129 lbs, alcohol units 8, cigarettes 19, calories 5424

Mine would be more like:

Fluid intake 4 litres, fluid output as urine 200ml, fluid output as sweat 3.8 litres, units of Tasty Saline 3, meals based on rice 2, solid stools passed 0, alcohol units -324 (compared to same time last year)

Hmmm...  Maybe that would be considered a big-time over-share?

What about:

Times asked "What is your country?" 12, "Are you married?" 11, "Why do you have short hair?" 7, "Can I have your mobile number?" 5, "Can I come to Australia with you?" 9

Or I could make it a little less self-centred.  Something along the lines of:

Times someone expectorated a huge gob of phlegm in my presence 27, witnessed a man pissing in the gutter 11, saw a lunghi-wearing man scratch his genitals 14

Or even:

Times people talked about me in Bangla, in my presence, before bursting into laughter 34

All in the name of "promoting Australia's national interest".