G's mum was supposed to be visiting us for some reason, to pick up a golf bag or something, that she didnt anyway because now its going to be her christmas present.

Life with G has been very difficult this week, there's stuff going on at work thats upsetting him. Unfortunately, he doesnt like to "Bring his work home" so this is pure speculation on my part from the few words that he's said to me all week.

He's pretty much come home, said "Hi", jumped on his playstation and ignored me all week, which would be fine if not for the atmosphere.

I cant handle "atmospheres", they make me get all nervous and say inappropriate things to cover it. Which makes things worse usually. As some readers of this can probably vouch for.

Anyway, the few times that he's broken his silence this week he's bitched about the clutter in the flat.So we agreed that on Saturday we would both put our heads together and clear this place up, and throw some stuff out.

Then he invites his mum to come and visit instead, and Im fucking ropable!

Then before his mum gets here his brother calls a few times looking for his Mum, then G calls his mum and she's in tears because of what N has said to her. Sure N has "problems", but he plays on them and any man of that age who cant figure out his finances enough to take care of himself better have a bloody good excuse for this heart to bleed.

So needless to say, whilst I feel really bad for G's mum I feel pissed off about the situation because they should never have let him get that way. Tough love was needed and now its too late.

But I bite my tongue.

So I get some cleaning done before she comes and I soften to her visiting because home is not where she needs to be just now.

BUT, Im not supposed to know all this, right? Im not supposed to know N has a "problem" so there is an atmosphere again, but its worse because G needs to speak to his mum, his mum has been crying, but Im not supposed to know.

So I say to G :"Would you like me to go out when your mum comes?", and he says "No, I would like you to be here".

So she comes over, we exchange pleasantries for FIVE HOURS! before N calls up freaking out and gives the "Game" away, so then we can all breathe easy and just fucking TALK about it.

Y'know?

and as much as I feel bad about the whole thing, I also felt like a spoilt brat because I had my day all planned out, fuck it.

Now G has agreed to take control of dishing the cash to N in easily digestable chunks, so needless to say he'll be ringing us every night at inconvienient times, causing more atmosphric behaviors from us, that we really dont need at the moment.

Because things feel bad enough.

After G's mum left last night we watched this TV special of the 100 highest selling singles of all time (in Britain) with such chesnuts as Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Human League.

And whenever I sit down and watch one of these with someone, and reminisce about my childhood, even the good bits seem twisted to people.

and I feel like no one "gets" me, and no one ever will.

and I hate Sundays

more than I hate Mondays