Dear Diary

I'm not gonna complain, not gonna be typical wimp english person, nope, no way, not me, yes I am, it's bladdddy freeeeezing. My house is so old, and so cold, old and cold, freezing, I wake up in the early hours, I have a snug hot body, under my 456 TOG duvet, but the little bit of me poking out of it, from my nose up, freezes, to the point of icicles. I'm sure the blood in my head freezes too. I have to defrost it in the microwave. Explains alot.

Martin is nearly all fixed now, all the scabs have dropped off, he has a little scarring on his top lip. I reckon the Roaccutane he took a few years back has helped him with this amazing healing, I cannot believe how quickly his skin has bonded and recovered. He seems happy, it will be good for him. I am not going to interfere, I am not going to interfere, well maybe a bit, it's what mums are for, gotta keep an eye out for him, but I must not do everything for him, he has to learn. He suffered severe depression at his last place, but he did not get on with who he was sharing with, and the flat wasn't very nice. This new flat is very very nicely decorated, all fully fitted, very clean, and the lad who is shares with has been a clase friend of his for 13 years, they get on really well. It's a foot on the ladder eh!

I don't why I'm sat here typing this, I have work to get on with.

I want snow, I want snow, I want snow, if we're gonna get -12 temps then the least we should be repaid with is a decent few inches. Where have I heard that before?