"You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart. You’re heading for a breakdown, better pull yourself apart. " - John Cooper Clarke

>My Boyfriend Is A Twat.

>What does he do with his time? The man gets up far too early, then literally dives for his computer, turns it on and then makes himself a cup of coffee, comes back and does … what? I’ve no idea. None whatsoever. Not a clue.

Yesterday, for example. I called him in the morning asking if he was coming into town. He was and so I asked if he could drop off a sandwich for me as he happens to have my bank card.

“Certainly, no problem – is 1pm OK?”
“Ooooh, could you make that 12.30pm – I’m starving.”
“OK. See you then.”

I thought that was so sweet and carried on working happily, knowing that lunch was on it’s way.

Bzzzzz (that was the parlophone, just in case you hadn’t guessed).

I jumped up – LUNCH!

“Livraison.”

Blast, the office orders had arrived. Oh well, not long now.

Wishful bloody thinking.

1pm. Stomach started making erratic sounds resembling a washing machine.
1.15pm. Feelings of weakness and apathy.
1.30pm. Feelings of murder and slow deaths.
1.45pm. Feelings that I may be the one dying a slow death.
1.55pm. Feelings of – hang on. Was that the parlophone again?

A sandwich arrived. The wrong one, but it was food. And a smoothie. Then the Twat pissed off to the library and yet another interview.

After I arrived home I realised that the shopping hadn’t been done – so what on earth had been going on since 5.30am – 1.55pm?

So I decided to feed Herman some tomato which he appeared to like and then went upstairs to help Tatiana with her homework. While she was making the adjustments to her flyer I checked in again on Herman.

He was chewing on a very old turd and what’s more, appeared to be enjoying it.

I couldn’t sum up the day any better: shit.

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