Shit. Again, I'm here again. This time it's me, it's my fault, again. But then it’s always me. It’s always my fault. This time I was late, I’m just not cut out for this shit. Why do I keep lying to myself? I'm really in the shit this time.
She’s fucking late again, she’s fucking late all the time. I’m doing her work again.
As well as my own. I don’t need this, not after last night. I'm always helping her. I can do without it. She's got me in the shit now.
They’ll be lucky to catch up now, they’re never gonna be ready for twelve. Look at them running around like headless chickens, shit everywhere. We’ll all be helping them out soon, they always have loads to do. She's the problem. We’re all gonna be in the shit soon.
Her fucking days are numbered, last chance used up. They're lining up to come here. She’s been getting carried for weeks. They’re all helping her now, because she can’t get out of bed. I'll tell her after tonight's service. I fucking hope she likes her lay-ins. I'll put her in the shit......