5 am

Dear Diary. 0-year-old's crying wakes me up.

6 am

I'm lying on the sofa with a blanket over my body and a tank top over my face, trying to get back to sleep, when Girlfriend enters the living room and says, "Paul, I need your help."

I go and help Girlfriend. She needs me to hold down 0-year-old's arms while she squirts saline up his nose with a syringe. The saline is supposed to unclog 0-year-old's nasal passages now that he's ill. 0-year-old keeps twisting his head from side to side to get away from the syringe.

In my head plays:

It's Christmas time, so don't let the bells end

It's not even proper Christmas time yet - it's only mid-November - so I don't know why my brain's chosen that song to play while I hold 0-year-old down so Girlfriend can irrigate his nasal passages with salt water.

Christ, I'm tired.

7 am

I send $10,000 to my friend Joe. He's got a crypto investment fund and yes I realise it sounds dodgy, but it's a legitimate investment fund, alright? It comes with a contract. Plus, Joe has a proven track record of making money on the crypto market - he's made himself millions. So sending $10,000 to Joe is either the best thing I've ever done or the most stupid thing I've ever done. Only time will tell.

10 am

I'm watching a film. Even though it's 10 in the morning and a weekday. Don't judge me. I'm looking after a baby, alright?

The film's called Bird Box. It's a good film. I really like it. It's about these monsters that make you want to kill yourself. As long as you don't look at them, you're fine; it's only when you look at the monsters that the uncontrollable urge to commit suicide kicks in. So everyone goes around wearing blindfolds all the time, to protect themselves from the monsters. It also makes playing Scrabble harder.

I finished reading Reasons To Stay Alive this week. It gave me new insight into depression and suicide. It turns out that suicidal people aren't just crazy like I first thought. It turns out they're actually suffering from horrendous mental pain, akin to physical pain but worse, and it's this mental pain that makes them want to kill themselves - to stop their suffering. My mom was like that, and she actually went through with it and killed herself by jumping off the top of a six-storey car park. I thought she was crazy, but maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was entirely sane throughout her depression and her attempts at suicide were just a normal reaction to the mental anguish she was suffering from.

Anyway, Bird Box: 5/5.

4 pm

My new phone arrives. A delivery man brings it in a box. I open the box in the kitchen. There, inside, is a Samsung A53. I've never had a Samsung before, only iPhones, so Samsungs are new to me.

I discover the phone doesn't charge wirelessly. I find this out when I toss the phone onto a wireless charging pad and nothing happens. Fuck sake. This means I'll have to charge the phone with a cable. I hate charging phones by cable. The charging port inevitably gets broken and you can no longer charge your phone. Either that or the charging port gets full of dirt and grime. I have a horrible memory from about six years ago of trying to get gunk out of an iPhone charging port with a toothpick, and then accidentally breaking the charging port with the toothpick.

I really need this new phone though. My old phone is literally falling apart. Just today I noticed that the bottom is coming off. And the back is cracked to all hell. It's not my fault; Apple said it was drop-resistant, and they lied to me, didn't they? How was I supposed to know that dropping an iPhone on a concrete floor would smash it? The phone was supposed to be smash-resistant! If it's not smash-resistant then don't advertise it as smash-resistant!

Christ, I'm tired. I'm really really tired. But I have to look for Christmas presents for 4-year-old on the internet. He wants X-Men lego figures. At what point in my life will everyone just leave me alone? When can I finally rest? When I'm 70?