it's one of those days that i wished i was living . alone. on a deserted island.

had a tiff with my mum last night over something totally ridiculous involving zoey, an incorrigible rabbit and a useless brother who lives to keep his feet clean. am i expected to know when and what to do, in her way? nothing wrong with helping out, but feel totally unappreciated sometimes.

mummy, it's getting harder to maintain the way we were.

maybe i'm jealous, in a wierd sense, that she has found her clique after being devoted to us all these years. and that she can no longer so readily there when i need her. but shouldn't i be happy seeing her enjoying with her friends? just like the way she felt when i chose to be with mine over her.