Is It Too Early To Start Drinking?

At this point, I would like to be drunk until after the holidays. My life right now is shit! Guess why? And here's a hint: Does anyone know anyone that wants a new husband? Actually, I don't think I'd do that to my worst enemy. That would just be cruel. 

So picture it: I've got almost everything done in preparation for Christmas Eve. I've cleaned the downstairs, top to bottom (cleaned every surface, mopped the floors, vacuumed, took cushions off couches, fluffed etc.), I've shopped, I've wrapped and now all I have to do is get the upstairs cleaned, make the Brunswick Stew and Brownies and done! 

Here's the hiccup, however: Jim hasn't finished patching, sanding and painting the upstairs hallway. He promised me though that he would have it completed by the end of the night last night. Of course he didn't get home until after 6:00 and then of course he had to eat and by the time I went to bed last night at around 8:00, he was just starting to sand. I listened to him do that until I finally fell asleep. Around 11:00, I woke up and saw the hall light was still on (our bedroom door was closed) and then I fell back asleep. At midnight I woke up again and went to the bathroom; hall light was still on (but I didn't hear anything). At 1:30, I wake up again, hear nothing but see the lights still on. So I go downstairs and find Jim asleep in a chair. Needless to say, I lose my mind. 

Fast forward to this morning. I get up at 6:00, as does Jim. I have coffee. He gets dressed and immediately starts working. I'm not mad anymore because I see everything should be primed and painted by the time he needs to leave around 8:00 for work. I get on the elliptical around 6:45, get off at 7:15 and the painting is done; Jim is cleaning up. I go downstairs and start making our breakfast. 

And then, as I'm getting things ready, I hear Jim yell loudly, "Oh FUCK! SHIT! GOD DAMMIT!" (Sorry Diane.) And I run out to the foyer and am just about to ask, "WHAT?!" But I don't need to, because I see what the issue is. Jim has his shop vac to suck up all the dust from sanding and it's spewing out dust...into the air. Into my clean housed. And I lose my fucking mind. Because guess what I get to do now? I get to clean all over again. Everything is COVERED in a layer of dust. And my husband is an asshole and all I can do is cry. 

See, he gets to go off to work now and I get to reclean everything and I get to still do all the shit I needed to do anyway and walk the dogs. And Jim's all like, "I told you I won't be all day. I'll be done by 1:00." Me: "Do you think I believe that? Do you think I don't know that 1:00 means 3:00? And have you done any shopping? Have you done anything to get ready for Christmas? Have you done anything in any way to help me?!" 

So I need to stop bitching and moaning here because I have a whole house to clean and food to make and ibuprofen to take because now I have a headache. Wish me luck. Dumb fucking Jim.