The joys of modern living

Annoyed this morning, waking up to the chaos of kitchen: tea bags and dishes dumped. For months now my flatmate has been making it clear that it's not our home but my flat, as she prepares herself to leave what was only ever a temporary arrangement while her divorce went through, distracted by her own worries about the future.

I realised today that my over-reaction is not just because I'm not too keen on housework myself, but also because I'm still carrying the sting of the betrayal meted out to my mother a quarter of a century ago. And I've spent my whole life till now, trying to avoid the same happening to me.

Right, now I'm off to clean the kitchen.