Today, I'm maybe even more frustrated than I was yesterday. Sure, I'll chalk some of it up to PMS, but some of it I believe is completely valid.
I love my husband to death, I really do. But he is a complete slob. Maybe this is because he has to be so squared away for his job, so he doesn't want to bother when he's home. I get it. But I hate it. We have a pretty small apartment, so when there's a mess, it takes over. I hate to be a nag or sound like his mother, but Jesus Christ man, is it necessary to leave clothes all over the living room, receipts all over the counter, and crumbs all over the kitchen?
He tells me he can't take a hint, so just say what I want. I told him on Monday that I wanted him to clean the drains in the kitchen sinks because it just grosses me out. Still not done. I told him I wanted him to put his 3 loads of clean clothes away before I washed another load. Still not done. I've told him repeatedly that I'd love it if he pulled the shower curtain closed to cut back on icky mold. Every freaking day, it's left open. And for God's sake, I would LOVE to have more than an hour and a half per day with him before he falls asleep!
Look, I know he has a tough job and works long freakin' days. I do, I understand, I sympathize, and I do whatever I can to make his life easier. I cook dinner almost every day. I set the alarm on the coffee pot so it's ready when he gets up. I do his laundry twice a week. I pay the bills. I make the grocery lists. I keep the apartment as clean as I can. But I just got a job, I start on Saturday. I don't want my frustration to turn to resentment when I'm working and playing Holly HomeMaker, too.
God, grant me the strength....