I text him this morning to remind him he's meant to be collecting his belongings this weekend.
Apparently he made a mistake and he means the following weekend. Why am I surprised? I messaged him back to say that I have plans because he said he was coming this weekend and turning up on the anniversary of his little announcement is unacceptable.
I'm so fucking sick of him.
The dogs are driving me insane. The old boy and his whining are killing me. I can't do anything without him being under my feet and if I try to go upstairs he cries like a puppy. Its all getting to me and I feel so wound up I could really lash out at the poor dog. He's crying now. I want to kick him in the face.
What I really want is to kick Gavin in the head.
I've spent the evening chatting online with my old school friend that I'm meant to be going to the concert with. Its been fun. Lots of memories of when I was up to no good. When life was easy.
But back to reality..and that bloody dog!