The kitchen is a shithole — I’m going to sort it out tomorrow.
It didn’t start out like a shithole, but a whole day of not really being here and fuck me, it’s like a war zone!
And what I don’t get is, I’ve been using the room on the hoof all day — since breakfast at like 01:23 this morning — how the fuck it get so messy?
And it’s all my mess, I recognise it.
I don’t want to.
Don’t make me.
I really can’t be bothered.
Tomorrow Tomos wants to do it, he told me.
He said, ‘Leave it Tonight Tomos, you leave it now and get yourself to bed.’
And to be quite frank, who am I to argue?