Good Grief

I am still grumpy. I can't shake it and I am just getting very frustrated with this whole situation.


I came home from work last night after a long day because one of my coworkers quit and we had to pick up the slack. When I walked in my door, there was Scott. On the floor in the living room, passed out amongst a scattered pile of once folded, clean clothes. I know they had been folded and clean because I did that before I went to work yesterday. I migrated to the kitchen where I put my keys only to notice that there was not just food all over the floor, but dishes all over the counters. As I stumbled through to the bathroom I tripped on a chair, a stationary cat toy that had been moved and the laundry hamper.

I wish I could say that this is a once in a while thing but unfortunately it is not. This is what happens every night and I am so sick of it I want to scream. My house is trashed. Literally. Every night when I leave for work. I can't stand it. When I have the kids I make sure that they know that part of our day includes cleaning up after ourselves and if Mommy makes lunch or breakfast then Mommy is also going to have to take ten minutes and do the dishes.

I think what scares me the most is that when I walk in and see this chaos I can't help but imagine that it was chaotic in the house. That the kids were running around everywhere screaming and throwing things and getting food all over the house. It is truly frightening.

What is most annoying about it is this: IT'S MY HOUSE!!! It is my house for goodness sake. This is not our house or even his house, it is mine.



I just do not know what to do anymore. I feel weakened and pathetic. I can feel this situation bringing out traits in me that I do not like. I can feel anger and depression making their way into my life and this only makes me more angry. This is not how I should feel. No one should feel this way. It isn't right.