so grumpy bum boy is off being buried alive in a hole in the snow for his fun and games territorial army shit. seriously, my tax money is being spent on sending a load of toy soldiers off to play in the snow? what in case we go to war with Switzerland?
ah well.
what this means for me is a super lovely peaceful house and that I'm four days in to give up smoking attempt number 2345.a.
the one downer to the alone time is that little cat has chicken pox. poor wee mite. he being super brave tho.
we been having a great time but he really does miss his dad. oh I spose I might miss him a bit too. but really don't miss the constant shouting. since Friday morning I haven't been shouted at/told off/ whined at/tutted at. tis blissful. stomach tying up in knots at the thought of his grumpy return.
sigh.
when he happy he fine but he just so god damn miserable. I don't want to live under the constant black cloud.
he doesn't mean to do it and before he went away he was trying really really hard not so be such a misery. almost succeeded. but now I'm on such a knife edge that the slightest slip from him, a tut, a voice volume slightly raised and my nerves are twanged, my back is up and I'm on the defensive.
bah.
what's all this shit about having to work at relationships? rubbish. I've never had to work at one before and I really don;t want to have to now. if it's too hard run away, surely that's the rule. stupid baby/tattoo/mortgage combo makes that slightly harder tho.
and I quite fancy having little cat number two...
think I just need some way to tune him and his moods out when he back home. I've almost sorted out the living room downstairs so perhaps having another room to hide in might help?
dunno.
anyways poo to long blogs and yay to twitter. come try if you haven't. I having ace fun stalking minor celebs and spouting stream of conscious nonsense in under 140 characters 
