I completely agree with the suggestion of two houses. My husband (soon to be ex) and I get along so much better because he’s in his house and I’m in mine. If we had only separated sooner, I wouldn’t have laughed as hard as I did at the part in your story about the dishwasher. In my case, when he still lived here, I eventually learned to put the dishes in the dishwasher any which way because I knew he’d “fix” it anyway. He wouldn’t load it on his own, mind you, but he was perfectly able to fix my “errors.”
I couldn’t love living alone more. In fact I might marry it one day.