I get up in the morning, and suddenly it dawns on me: after all, I have been married to Putin for almost 10 years, and what is happening between us is classic Russian family life. He doesn’t bring me a salary, but I don’t cook dinner for him and don’t wash his linen. We live like Steve Oblonsky and Dolly, we don't greet each other, we don't talk. And the house is common: 1/8 of the world. Or darkness.