She works ten hours a week. Ten to fifteen to, a good week, twenty.

Just, please, for the love of god, do something here. I'm not even saying work on the house the equivalent of me working at work. I'm saying just fucking do all the fucking laundry already.

We've made it so I do the dishes and she puts them up. Which I can live with, I have no problem doing the dishes. But by god, it's hard for me to do the next load of dishes if the dishes ARE STILL IN THE DRAINER. Or the dishwasher.

You get my point.

So this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to finish making dinner and doing the dishes. And then I'm going to focus on doing one area of the house at a time. I'm going to work on the laundry/kitchen area.

Because (here I go, getting angry again) it's the only part of the house I really can work on. I can't do shit with the dining area because we still have boxes piled up there. Piled up because she wants to take them to her grandma.

It's been two months since we moved. Two months and she's only found time to take three boxes.

She can't move more than three boxes at a time because she won't clean her car out and she hasn't caught on that I'm not riding in her car because I'm uncomfortable.

And if I throw the damn boxes away she'll be upset because they're her grandpas. Because I guess it's hard to go to a grocery store and get boxes?

I don't know.

But tonight I'm just going to ignore her and she can pout, but god damn I already spent the whole day with her. I made dinner for her.

I'm unhappy, just let me clean without feeling guilty. Sit and watch your television or play with your baseball cards, it's cool.