I hate being married. Can I just not be, anymore?

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It never ceases to amaze me that you can spend hours and hours cleaning, re-organizing, de-cluttering, only to come back and find that any open space has been appropriated for random stuff landing spots in a matter of hours and of course no one takes responsibility for any of it. "How did that stereo system complete with sub woofer get to be on the breakfast bar that I cleaned off not even half an hour ago???" "No idea." "Why is there a gallon jug of lemonade on my newly re-organized desk??" *shrug* "I didn't put it there." "Who put these crystal votive candle holders on this jewelry case that I just windexed??!" "They're not mine" AAARRRGGGHHH.
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