I'm wondering how exactly I go about politely asking crazy-eyed, druggy lady and odd-stare man to stop harrassing me for water. I really don't mind sharing, but where as it was now and again a few weeks ago, it then morphed into once a week and now it's once a day, apart from not just the day. It's quite late at night.....an I absolutly refuse to revert back to my old ways of yore and being afraid to answer the door.
They have also realised that in me they have found a soft sucker and have gone from just bringing over a kettle, to a kettle and a glass to now me having to make multiple trips from front door to flat to fill up the selection of pop bottles, kettles, buckets, glasses....anything that holds liquid.
Ugh. If this journal entry starts to take on a strange slant, chances are I have been beaten over the head and they are eating my crunchie-nut cornflakes.