I'm not a bad bloke to live with. I do more than my fair share, I do all the cooking, I don't count the pennies and I make sure I take enough time off to have quality time and I'm drop-dead gorgeous and very witty. Why, therefore, on only the 4th day of work in 7 years (as opposed to my 2400-odd) do I get a gobful in the morning about coming to bed late and waking a certain someone up? Even if I did wake that person up for 5 mins, they still managed 8 hours and 55 minutes' worth of sleep, as opposed to my 3 and a half.
You know...sometimes, just sometimes I wonder why I bloody bother.