There's no place like home

I don't like single beds or being mikes away from a bathroom.

I like my bed.

I am happy even if Mr Smith occupies the other side.

I am so dreading tomorrow.  I really dislike my mother intensely.  I know one shouldn't but she really is horrible.  She is a bully.  She doesn't want to look after my father because she is so selfish.  I want to fling her off the nearest cliff.  Why can't she just be nice?  I am so kind and lovely to my family.  It doesn't hurt to be kind.  I am being horrible to her giving her a taste of her own medicine.  She has to learn.  I am not just at her beck and call.... Oh but I am.

So tomorrow I am going all the way to London by train to empty one little cupboard because she can't inconvenience herself to help my father.  She is so mean.

I will do voodoo.  I wonder if it works.