I feel defeated and unhappy. I have a ball of anger inside me that I can't quite let out, or even examine properly. I am angry at my husband, a simmering irritation that I can't seem to quench. G and I are such calm people, we never fight. Perhaps that's a problem in some ways. Perhaps it would be better to just let loose, but I can't stand saying unfair words in anger--or even stand listening to my own shrill voice mouthing stupid things. I tried talking to him last night, telling him how I've been feeling lately: tired, depressed, annoyed with the house, a little mad that he hadn't done anything to the house while I was gone for 6 days [my uncle died, my dad's brother, and I made an emergency trip to Indiana]. G is so passive, so impossible to ruffle. He just sat there, supportive of me (so sorry you are depressed) and said nothing about the anger, but "oh, so you were mad," then he grew progressively more quiet and tired looking and just said he was tired and going to bed. Its like a no-win situation. I tell him I'm upset and that I can't stand how dirty the house is, how cluttered...I suggest ways to approach getting things on track and he just passively sits there, "yes, that's a good idea."

The whole thing overwhelms him he says. I ask what bother's him about the house (he is tired of it too) and he can't even say one thing--just that the "whole thing" bothers him. No wonder the guy is hopeless at management...he can't break any problem or task down into steps (ok...unless it is important to him.) I ask myself--was he always like this? He must have been, must'nt he? People don't change.

I tell myself, if the house bothers ME, I need to change. I need to take care of it. I can't blame my unhappiness on other people. AT the same time, I get so angry. I'm the one working. I take care of finances, household mangement, I make milk for Phoebe, I take care of her when I'm home. I have no time to myself unless I get up at 5 am before she wakes up. I am so tired of having to tell G every frickin week that its trash day. Do I really need to tell him that the lawn needs mowed?

I refuse to be some sort of bitter nag, but how does one function in a relationship like this and get everyone to do their fair share? I told myself this morning that cleaning is my new religion, my new meditation. I should take pleasure in all the little things--the satisfaction of transforming things from dirty to sparkling. I'll use my mom's method--if it isnt' supposed to be there, toss it. Hell, if our house becomes an empty shell, it sure would be easier to clean.

But when G gets up, I'm angry all over again. A litany starts in my head, "why is he rolling out of bed at 7:45AM when he knows I leave at 8, I can't get ready with him in bed. He claims to want to make me lunch every day and breakfast, but that ain't happening if he gets up that late. He went to bed before me and wakes up after me." Ok--yes, I could wake him up, but when I try to do that, I stop myself, feeling bad for wakign him out of a peaceful sleep--why should he have to get up just because I'm up.

Honestly--its like I'm two people--one wanting to baby and mother him, indulging him in his whims--get a guitar, sleep late, buy the movie, play with Phoebe, don't start into a cleaning routine too fast after starting to stay home, get used to being a dad to Phoebe, spend time with her---but at the same time getting angry that he is such a child, wants to be babied so much, told what to do all the time.

I have to get to work. I don't know what to do.  ¶ 9:17 AM