Marriage Sucks Sometimes

I'm depressed and upset; Harry's been verbally abusive again for a while. He thinks he's just angry or talking; he has no idea. He barely helps me organize stuff for moving and complains when I do it myself and he doesn't like what I've done. We went out to lunch with my cousin today--I usually do on Fridays. Cousin Jerry would only go to the Home Depot near my house so I told him to just drop us off. That's a depressing place and I try to avoid it. So I got nothing done except Bubba's kitty litter because he did stop there. Both Harry and I were angry at Jerry; I have to agree with Harry that we wasted our time. But Harry's walking around like a powder keg and I'm nervous around him. I love being in my house but it doesn't feel good. There's nowhere comfortable for me to watch TV or sleep away from him. I can see a fourth bedroom in the new house would be a very good idea.
If this were the last day of my life, I'd feel pretty sad. It's been miserable. I did put away my shoes and then of course, had Harry yell at me for doing it because he felt he had to move it and I guess he thinks I should have known what he'd think. All I knew was that he didn't move his clothes and if I had, he would have made a terrific fuss. Mostly, marriage is no fun. It's companionship and sharing, but too often there are days of hurt and misunderstanding. Harry resents but never says he does my going to bed and arising late. He believes in order for him to work on the basement or other chores needed for selling the house or helping me, I need to be there. Last week, I asked him to use the big vacuum on the carpet downstairs because Moon, our beloved mouser, left a dead mouse there. I remind him frequently but he hasn't done it and won't until and if I fight with him.
When I told him today it's rude for a man to put himself first in front of his wife while waiting in a line, he said I was just angry and bothering him. We've been married for forty-one years and I still find that behavior ignorant and now that I really know what it is, it's selfish. Harry used to give himself the best and biggest cuts of meat, chicken or whatever there was. Once when a dog was barking and running toward us, Harry pushed me out of his way and Harry ran. If we had a fire, I'd expect him to save himself first.
It's nice that he puts me on a pedestal; I'm the lady with brains and he reveres me. But worshipping and being considerate are not necessarily the same. He was thrilled when I retired; I could hang out with him all the time. And I'm so agoraphobic unless I really work at it, he has what he wants. I'm going to email this to him. Maybe he'll read it and maybe he won't. I don't care.