Our flat sprang a leak, the bathroom is far from finished and I had to queue at the kitchen sink.
Mr Smith is always in a bad mood these days. He is very thin and very batey. I think he worries about money. I feed him a lot of crappy fattening food but he doesn't get fat. I do. He needs a holiday so I have paid for him to go to Turkey on a golfing tour. I am quite looking forward to it - a bit of time on my own without that damned darleck wheeling about the place frightening me.
New five day detox plan starts today. Nothing sweet. Can I do it? I am tempted to put it off til tomorrow as it is Mardi gras today and I want to go to Rio to shake my booty. No, sorry, I got carried away there. It is Shrove Tuesday and I want to stay at home ramming pancakes down my throat. I will make them for my darling family. I am determined to break the dreadful sugar addiction I have. Five days doesn't seem very long.
Mr Smith is hanging about here today. I wish he would go away. He judges me with his little clipboard and stopwatch. I know there is ironing to be done. I will run away to my shed.
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