my diary.
my sad old diary.
im back visiting for the day.
sometimes i get caught upi with 'new' and i need reminding of old.
why does it always have to be about me? it doesnt. it isnt. im tired.
today i have been asked thousands of questions. by what feels like thousands of people. I dont want to answer any of them but i do, and i smile, and i get accused of not being gracious enough.
theni help, try to, cheer someone up and i get accused, of being all about me.
by one person i never thought would say that.
im fed up of today. im fed up of being here. im fed up with the people. my eyes are prickly and i have to go home and clean the sodding drains.
maybe ill pick up a bottle of wine and get so drunk that by the time my dad arrives at my house t 6.30 this eveing im passed out on the sofa, fully clothed and watching This Life reruns.
if only.
sod off.
