Liza has been living it up. Spending so much cash, eating all the food, smoking all the weed, laying on all the surfaces and pretty much living her dream. Then she turned 31 and became a clich Bridget Jones' Diary. She doesn't fit in her pants, she can't remember what she did even yesterday, she's got no savings and won't leave her carbon monoxide-filled apartment to find the love she so desperately wants. She's in therapy, she's trying to intermittent fast and buy less crystals. Self-improvement is annoying.