Doug has been renovating our bedroom for years. The past year has brought him (slowly) to the stage of finishing the drywall. Every evening I walk downstairs to put on my jammies and put away that day’s clean laundry. Every evening, the dresser with Doug’s clothing is in the exact same spot it has been for five years, right beside his side of the bed. Every evening, the dresser with my clothing is somewhere different. It has been on every wall in the bedroom and is now practically in the closet. Doug has a clear path to the restroom in the sleepy darkness. I frequently have to crawl over furniture, ladders and paint buckets to get in or out of the bedroom. I have to pause and get my bearings just to find a pair of socks. I love Doug with all my heart, but I’m certain he’s trying to drive me insane.