48 more fucking days! 7 more weeks!
7 more weeks of laundry being done as noisily as possible at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning. 7 more weeks of hearing doors that are apparently incapable of being closed quietly. 7 more weeks sticky door handles and coffee stains down the front of cabinets. 7 more weeks of arriving home to dog shit in the living room because she couldn't be bothered to take them out before she left for work. 7 more weeks of finding the dishwasher unemptied with dirty dishes sitting in the sink. 7 more weeks of living with someone who fancies herself an expert on everything. 7 more weeks of Judge Judy twenty four hours a day. 7 more weeks of that smell. 7 more weeks UNTIL WE GET OUR FUCKING HOME BACK TO OURSELVES AND THAT WOMAN IS GONE!
I told Ben the other night that if I never see his mother again after she moves out I'll live out my life a happy man. He said he was starting to feel the same way.
Worst. Houseguest. Ever.