That is all I have to say about it really. 

I mean, I cook for dinner ALL DAMN DAY (no lie, I made bean soup from dried beans) bake a fucking cake FROM FUCKING SCRATCH INCLUDING FUCKING ICING and then made a cornbread to go with the aforementioned bean soup.  And then you feel free to come home whenever you’d like when you said you’d be home at FOUR FUCKING THIRTY.  You can shove this shit right up your FUCKING ASS SIDEWAYS.

BTW, I looked it up and I’m entitled to spousal support and half your assets.  My advice to my husband would to be that you’d better fucking make it up to me.  I’m thinking a year-long travel certificate, the Hope Diamond, a Bentley and a summer house combination or a permanent move out of California would be about the only things that I would accept at this time as an apology.  Looks like your ass better start fucking saving your pennies.