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Don’t talk to me! I’m allergic now, to this week.
I’m being frozen out inside in my house. Not one of the girls will talk to me. Jesus, I was counting down the hours until ye came. I swear to God. It all started with Anna’s purse. Ted something or other. Anyway, apparently it’s hundreds of euro and I’m after breaking it. I mean it’s not my fault if the fecking thing crumbles with a bit of pulling about. In all fairness!
I made a balls of it anyway. I was only looking at it, in all fairness. You can’t expect to leave a yellow purse hanging around the house and not expect it to catch someone’s eye. I said sorry. I don’t know how many times. How sorry I was. Sure it didn’t seem to matter, she wouldn’t even look at me. Jesus. You’d swear I’d attacked her, the way she was flinching when I kept coming up to her. I felt like a vicious animal.
To be fair, ye should have seen her, Anna. She was raging. She was roaring at me when she found me on the couch. Jesus, calm yourself, like. Tis only a purse at the end of the day. Although, she was saying that it was hundreds of euro. That’s what she kept saying, hundreds of euro. Sure how was I to know that? Why do you go and buy such expensive things for someone to come along and break them? I did her a favour, sure t’was obviously badly made, like. She had a face like a bag of chisels. It’s been a day and she won’t let go of it, like. I mean I’m her housemate and it’s a fecking purse. At the end of the day like, I don’t understand why women spend so much money on the likes of all that. Jesus, you could have a feckin’ bag shop inside in my house. And would you just look, all that money and sure now it’s broke.
I can’t take the cold shoulder from women, boy. It pure stresses me. I’m pure awkward then and I don’t know where to put myself. They won’t look at you and they barely even glance in your direction. Tis’ awful. I have to practically beg for an old biscuit or some dinner. It’s in the way, then, that they put the bowl down in anger and walk away. I’m not able. It makes for an awful atmosphere now in the house and you feel haunted to get away. I was eating my dinner last night and no one was talking to me. Even after I apologized. Sure, I practically had the gawks then eating my dinner. You know how it turns you, then? Just the awkwardness of it lad. I’m allergic.
Ah Jesus. Sure tis never simple in our house, like. You can’t breathe right. I better head back, anyway. Back to prison. Ha! Am I right? I’m not wrong, anyway.