5 PM

Dear Diary. The cleaning robot is lying dormant under the kitchen table, like some giant insect that thinks if it stays still, you won't see it. Well, I see you under there, cleaning robot.

It's been under the table for a week now. Neither I nor Girlfriend have been bothered to get it out. This cleaning robot is more trouble than it's worth.

9:30 PM

Girlfriend's watching another sodding Netflix documentary. Christ, there's no end to these Netflix documentaries. Every day she watches a different one. If I had to guess what this documentary's about, I'd say Jeffrey Epstein. Not because I'm watching it but because almost alll these Netflix documentaries are about Jeffrey Epstein, as far as I can tell. Netflix — and my girfriend Girlfriend — are obsessed with Epstein. Epsteins's had more documentaries about him than global warming or apes in the rainforest. The moral is, if you want to be famous, have sex with underage girls, I guess.

"What's this one about?" I ask Girlfriend.

"Jeffrey Epstein," Girlfriend says.

See, I told you! I bloody told you.

She could be watching Matrix 4. Jesus Christ.