001: How to live with this woman? I regret you. I have all day today... how to say... digestion in general, like a worm. Mom mocked and mocked. Once again I go out of the toilet, go to her at the workshop, I see a box under my shoes, glued with glue, in which she holds strands or something like that. I think I also need to stick a few boxes and at this point my mom says you would have taken any measures (apparently meant a pill to drink or something like that, well, about my condition). And I think about the boxes, I say "Oh, I’ll buy a glue and...". My mom broke the hamsters. She has the remains of the glue, she now follows me and asks if I can’t glue something. That’s how to live with her, right?