Up at 5.30 this morning. Dog was crying, I had lovely clean sheets on and couldn't face taking him up to bed with me for a couple of hours.
I put some washing on, went to my horses, walked the dogs and got home at 9. It was great, I still had the whole day ahead of me.
I've done loads. Dismantled some furniture all by myself, sorted loads if things. Oh my god I have so much stuff. I've left out 1 plate, 1 cup, 1 glass, a knife, fork and a spoon. It's perfectly adequate. Why the hell do I have 3 boxes just of mugs and glasses?
The curtains are down, the living room feels echoey and sad. I feel minor irritation at the thought of Gavin sitting on his fat arse somewhere doing fuck all when I'm facing all this by myself. Selfish prick.
But fuck him. I don't need him. I can do this. I am doing this.
No comments:
Post a Comment