THE PAIN OF HAVING A DRUNKARD FOR A HUSBAND.

<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> </xml><xml> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE </xml><xml> </xml> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <xml> </xml><xml> </xml>I am not a woman (thank you lord for that favour) but for once, let me pretend that I am one who happens to be married to a man who loves and worships the bottle and by that I mean a drunkard. So, in such a circumstance, how does a typical day look like?