I just can’t do it anymore. I’m sitting here on the floor and my hands are shaking and I just want to scream. It’s 2am and the whole house smells like cedar wood and glue and it makes me want to puke. He’s out there again. I can see the light under the garage door from the window. He’s been out there since breakfast. Twelve hours. Just cutting and sanding and hammering those stupid little birdhouses over and over until my head spins. He’s out there hiding like a kid while I’m stuck in here with everything else. The kitchen is the worst part. It’s so quiet.