Friday was my last day. I got through it but refusing to let my mind dwell on that fact, as if I would be coming in the next day, or the next. I hate being home with my husband, I see everything that he leaves lying around and that he hasn't done. Not to mention the schedule he hasn't kept up with Lydia and it just makes all the work I have put in to establish rountines, to clean, to organize worth nothing. Yesterday was terrible. I woke up early, and did some playing around on the computer. I start laundry and was picking up some of my stuff from work. I just saw all the things that he has just left, the kitty litter in the car from Thanksgiving, the open cereal boxes, the Christmas cards on the floor, Lydia's toys splayed out everywhere. It is depressing! and then he tries to blame me! I went to go into the office in order to put some pens and other office stuff away and I couldn't get anywhere without tripping! I had put in a week last summer to get that room so that you could see the floor, in the middle and get to most of the stuff in the room. Now, it is crap, and when I told my husband that general idea, he said it was all me! I haven't even been in the room! He claims he hasn't gone in there in protest off me taking my laundry baskets back and putting his clean clothes on the floor! For God's sake, I  needed somewhere to put my dirty clothes, and that would be my dirty clothes basket! I had waiting a week! His clothes sat in there for a week, and he refuses to put anything away, he just picks the clean clothes off the top. I hate him, and he says he hasn't been in there in this smug tone saying he wanted to prove that it was all me. That doesn't work if he can't remember that he has been in there!, Shoot he is waking up, I have to go.