DD2 is refusing to go to Scotland tomorrow and won't pack because she doesn't want to go. She has been an utter pain in the arse all weekend and threw the most almighty strop in Forever 21, because I told her to ask the sales assistant where she could find the jeans she liked that were on the mannequin (I wouldn't do it for her). She won't speak to people she doesn't know, doesn't want to go away, doesn't want to leave her bedroom all week, hates her bedroom because it "stresses her out" (yes, I know, none of it makes sense).
She is charming when everything goes her way, like when we were shopping this afternoon and I bought her some clothes. She is becoming an entitled little cow and my hands itched to slap her earlier. When she went to France the other week, I ended up giving her 100 euros (as that was all I had - nothing smaller), and told her to bring back the change, and not to spend it all. She spent the whole lot, brought back about 30 cents, nothing to show for it, it had all gone in McDonalds, apparently.
And the Man Upstairs is becoming an ever increasing pain in the fucking arse. Tap, tap, tapping at the door late at night, finding him sprawled on our landing, claiming to have fallen down the stairs (he hadn't, I wasn't asleep and would have heard him), so DH had to take him back upstairs. He was there again early this morning, seconds after DH had gone out, dithering for about an hour - he had pushed his bank card under our door, then decided he wanted it back, or did he? And they were going to kill him, had his bank details, had blocked his phone, had put cameras all round his flat...
I am fed up with the whole fucking lot of them and wish they would all fuck off and leave me alone. My cold has come back and I am feeling ill again, so this is also making me tetchy and crabby.