Ugh I hate Mondays, mother says it's the most productive day of the week. But mother is just one of those people. Infact she got me this diary so I could "record and organise my days" In truth the only thing I'm gonna be recording here is how many times I can get away with fucking Albert in the rose garden. So far I've managed it about 5 times although once the gardener found us... And let's just say we have one less gardener and the hospital has one more patient.
Now you may be wondering who exactly Albert is, he is my fiance. Now you may be wondering why I'm fucking him in the rose garden, I got bored. There's only so many teaparties and luncheons one lady can take. Especially this lady.
I just figure if I've been promised to Albert I may as well start now. Although I'm contemplating moving our little catch ups to the shed, as last time I got rose thorns in places daylight doesn't even touch.
I'm seeing Albert this evening actually, mother's holding a ball in the town hall for "charity". I've already picked out my dress it's pink white and festooned with tule piping. Quite frankly I think it makes me look edible. I fucking love it. I'm gonna waltz around like a macaroon all evening! I'm afraid I must stop writing now, as I'm due in the drawing room for piano lessons with miss rashnom. (Our tutor from India). Although I like calling her miss mushroom. For obvious reasons. The bitch looks so much like those soggy grey ground vegetables it's a wonder no one's tried to add her to a soup yet.
YOU ARE READING
Bettina Smithers
Historical FictionThe diary of a bitch with a fan. ((Yet another story written by a friend and not actually by me whoops.))
