Violet I can definitely empathise with that.
My husband spends 5 nights a week at his own house, on Monday I asked him to move the hoover from the upstairs of the house to the down because it's big and bulky and I'm always worried about slipping with it on the stairs, he huffs and puffs like a child, like it's such a major thing.
I also asked him to get me the mop and bucket as lifting and tipping them full is painful, so he poured the floor water that I'd just used to mop around the toilet, into the bath I'd just cleaned.
He bought bin bags too small for the bin, so the kids just piled loads of apple cores and crap on top. He said 'don't worry I'll deal with it' and every day this week the dog has got up at six sm and spread litter around the house, so I've just had to lift the 50L bin and empty it as he couldn't be arsed.
He pushes hIs bicycle past the full (of his cans and bottles from cider) recycling bin every night, meaning I have to put the fucking thing on the bin port ready to be taken out.
He literally complains about anything, anything that isn't him sat studying, he winges about. It's getting to the point where I'm just going to ask him to stay away until he's finished his course because I literally can't deal with the stress of it anymore.
Everything is under duress, is a problem, is a fucking inconvenience to him.
I am so angry and passed off at doing the same job six times because I'm getting no help from anywhere