As soon as I got home tonight I went upstairs.  Youngest was frustrated because my tv won’t work without the remote.  The remote was broken this morning.  It was smashed off a wall by youngest.  He punched me because it was obviously my fault.  My youngest is twelve stone, he throws some punch.  I’d went upstairs to my bathroom.  By the time rd gone to my bedroom he’d pissed all over my pillows.  The idiots I live with are scrambling about trying to piece together the remote.

It may only be 8pm but I’m done for today.  I’ve spare pillows & I’m going to bed.  I hope they don’t fix the controls.  I hope when he comes to apologise I’m asleep because I can’t be arsed listening to yet another lame excuse.   I can’t expect anyone to help me when I can’t help myself. 


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