Tonight I informed L that I was leaving him on his own for dinner. He had leftover ten-bean soup, actually sort-of-halfassedly thanked me for preparing anything at all (bitching about the ingredients the whole time), and took off immediately after he was done. Where he went I don't know, but he came back a few hours later and immediately parked himself in the kitchen for half an hour devouring anything in sight. He snarkily requested the chips from G, bitched about how much of them we had eaten (A, we bought them, and B, he didn't buy anything of his own this week, so C, cram it), then continued sullenly "asking" questions. Asking is in quotes because this is less of a request for information or a curiosity than a challenge, I have learned. To L, everything is a challenge, whether one issued to him or one he chooses to issue.

And I am really sick of his bitching, because it isn't just bitching, it's his way of passive-aggressively accusing me (and whoever else happens to be around) of failing him in some regard. Seriously, Navy Base Alpha was shooting off ordinance the other day and L was twisting around in logic trying to make this somehow my fault. Welp, guess it is my fault because I chose to rent a condo within ordinance-noise-hearing-range. Damn, I'm a bad person. Totally did it solely to inconvenience him. Five years after the fact. *cue Eyeroll Of Egregious Snark +2*

And one of these days I'm going to snap and flip out at him, I can feel it welling up within me. And all this work that G and I have managed to do (which is noticeable, although not enough to make this better, not yet) will be undone with the first sentence.

Also, my house is a disaster because L refuses to clean up after himself and I refuse to clean up after him and G occasionally will but this makes me feel horrendously guilty because G has a stressful full-time job, he doesn't need to be taking over the responsibilities of others on top of everything at his job (henceforth semi-affectionately referred to as Dilbert's Construction Inc, of perhaps DCI, DCI would be less typing on my part).

I feel guilty because we made a deal when we got married - he'd do the work outside the home, and I'd do the work inside the home. And I look around at all the crap on the floor and the mess in the kitchen and bread crumbs freaking everywhere and all I see is that I'm shirking my end of the deal. Never mind that it's L's responsibility to clean up his shit. Never mind that G has expressly asked me to not clean up after L. My house is a wreck and I feel like it's my fault because I'm being a bitch and not cleaning it.

Some days are better than others. Today was not a good day.