6:30 pm

Dear Diary. It's hot. I'm walking to the indoor rock-climbing centre while I'm pushing 0-year-old in his pram. 0-year-old's eating a digestive biscuit. He shouldn't be eating a digestive biscuit. In fact, he shouldn't be eating anything because he’s only five months old. But I say, "Let him eat cake". Or let him eat a digestive biscuit in this case. Anyway, it's sugar-free. The only risk is if he chokes on it which is a pretty substantial risk actually. But so far he's eaten half and he hasn't choked yet.

The wind is hot. The sun is low in the sky. The sunlight is trying to force its way under the peak of my cap and into my eyes. Fucking sun. I wish we didn't have a sun. Then it would be night-time all the time and everyone knows that night-time is the best time.

I can't wait for winter. Then again, when winter does come, I'll be saying, "I can't wait for summer."

Occasionally, a car drives past. The sound of its engine gets louder as it gets nearer, and then the whoosh as it drives past, and then the sound gets quieter away as the car drives off.

There's also the sound of the wind in my ears, like the shouts of angry ghosts. And the rustle of leaves in the trees.

I feel tired today. I feel tired every day. One of Girlfriend’s uncles said I look sleepy and he shouted at me to wake up. For a scary moment, I thought I was dreaming and that my uncle shouting at me was my brain's way of waking me up. But unfortunately, I was already awake.

My uncle's wife agreed and said that I look sleepy. Like one of the seven dwarves, I guess. It’s alright for my uncle and aunt: they're almost retired now and they don't have any kids to look after. I would have slept in today but I have a four-year-old and a baby to look after.

I finally get to the rock-climbing centre but the shutters are down over the door. I check their Instagram account and it says they're closed because it's a national holiday. Fuck national holidays. Everyone should work seven days a week, with no free time whatsoever. Also, I should have checked their Instagram account before I left the apartment. Now I've got to walk all the way back. That's an hour of my life wasted.