Sapping My Will To Live

This is becoming a common phrase for me. I'm tired. Why?

My husband's crap is completely wearing me down. My standards are being continuously stripped away through sheer exhaustion. I feel like just giving up and letting the clutter monster, the packrat, the slob that is my husband take over.

I don't want to do laundry and I don't want to do the dishes (several days worth are stacking up in the sink right now) and I don't want to vaccuum or put anything away or dust or anything else. Why bother? He will just come in and trash it.


It's his responsibility to clean off the stove of the dinner dishes and put them in the sink for me to clean. These were left overnight. As usual.


We have at least five baskets/organizers to sort all of the mail and other counter clutter into. He refuses to put these things away into their approapriate place as they come in. Instead it's "I'll get to it later." Later? You mean a month from now when I stop asking nicely and start screaming about it?


The dining room table is not your storage for your stereo equipment. If the children decide to play the drums on these subs its your fault not mine.


More stereo-related clutter in the form of that box and pipe combo. It's been there for over a week now. He promised he would get it put away--10 days ago. The child's seat? Been on the porch since the day after we bought the van (mother's day weekend) because I was putting it in the the van for the baby when I discovered it was broken. I wanted to throw it away, he won't let me. Says he will do something with it. Meanwhile the baby has outgrown his infant seat carrier and needs a new car seat. the porch swing broke the same day he said he would take care of the box/pipe thing and he said he would fix it (when? in a year or ten?) and finally he went to an auction and bought those godawful candles. They are Christmas decorations. He has the worst taste in Christmas decorations and I've repeatedly told him not to buy anything without my consent.


Ah, the fan box. Been hanging around the house about a week or so.


Moving onto the bathroom. He has a drawer at least a foot deep to store all his magazines in the bathroom. These are MORE magazines piled on top of the counter. I'm so close to going in and throwing THEM ALL AWAY. DO YOU HEAR ME MY LOVE? I'M GOING TO TRASH THEM IF YOU DON'T DO SOMETHING!


And the ever present pair of boxer shorts in the bathroom. He seems to think that by putting them on the window sill that he is putting them away. NOPE. WRONG. They do not belong in the bathroom at all. Three guesses where they belong people. I bet YOU guys can get it right.

Can anyone tell I'm reaching the end of my rope? It's either going to mean my totally giving up and letting the place go to shit OR it will mean me burning the place down. Wonder which would be better?

~Sleeping Mommy