...breakfast tomorrow, so that Steve can have his sarnies for tea tonight and tomorrow. If I can persuade Steve to open the granola then we can both have that for breakfast tomorrow and Monday, but I bet he doesn't wanna make the roast tomorrow lunchtime, just like he didn't wanna make today's lunch for us both.
I've just made him a double MugShot for his lunch and, as predicted this morning, he didn't make the rice for both of us, so he's expecting me to live on 2 slices of toast and a 250ml bottle of orange juice for 24 hours while he has 3 full meals.
He tells everyone that he "cooks every meal" yet he's made 1½ salads (I made the majority of the second salad) this week and actually cooked bugger all, whereas I've made him 10½ meals but apparently I don't make any meals at all and I've got proof that that's been total bollox for the last 13 weeks.
He also reckons he looks after me for "well over" the 35 hours minimum, but I've yet to receive more than 5 hours of care a week off him (his record weekly care so far was when I went for that hospital test and that was a record of 4 hours and 55 minutes of care that week).
He's finished his lunch, so I'd better go and take his mug into the kitchen, before he falls asleep for the afternoon and knocks the mug off the arm of the chair, which would, of course, be my fault.
Need to go and water the tomatoes too, that he agreed to us having but has done bugger all to look after them so far.
I've taken my afternoon pill, so that's it until tonight now.
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