Three weeks left

In three weeks I get to move! I am elated-I will not have to deal with the bullshit here any longer. There are days when I know I don't do everything the in-laws would like, or it gets done, but not in a timely manner. Those are the days when I am biting my tongue to keep from yelling "What, we pay you for the privilage of my being your indentered servant!" I have always bit my tongue, but if I hear anything today, I am going off. Last night FIL was in a pissed of mood. He even announced that he was pissy at everything, and he proceded to, while making the most noise possible, do the dishes. This task normally falls to me, apparently, I made an arrangement, that I never recall making, to do the dishes every day...for NOTHING, not even a thanks most of the time. Just griping about how I don't do them right, or early enough, or I will let them sit until the next morning before doing them or whatever. I understand that I am the only one in the house of working age, who does not work outside of the house...I don't think the in-laws understand, though, that what I do is work, and not just an eight hour job, I do this damn near every day. Sometimes someone will take Bigguy over night or for the weekend, but little man is still with me, rarely do I have them both gone, and when they are, do I relax? Hell no, I do all the things I need to get done that I cannot do when they are arround. The in-laws like to bitch about the state of our rooms-which, in their defense, are messy. We pay rent, a very decent amount to live here, yet all our stuff is in our rooms, because we get bitched at if we use the attic, basement or shed, and their house is already so cluttered that we couldn't possibly have any of it in the common areas.
inhale, exhale,inhale,exhale
Three weeks
not that I'm counting