At What Point Do You Surrender?

Being around myself more than anyone else, I feel fairly qualified to name both bad and good things about me. Because it's me, we're going to focus on the bad today, and how it is detrimental to my mental health.
I am a clean freak.
I don't mean a glove-wearing, masked, constantly-disinfecting mom like on Dexter's Laboratory.
I just like things to be clean. And that's the way it is.
My paternal grandparents were not concerned about having a spotless house, nor is my dad. My mom is, which makes this just one more thing I have to admit I have in common with her. My brother and sister are very particular about the order of things, but I don't know how fastidious they are.
I just want my space orderly. I want my tables and counters wiped down. I don't want clutter. I don't care about stuff being alphabetized or being correlated by color. I just want it clean.
This can be a problem when you live with guys.
In my case, I mean it IS a problem. I live with two who do not care at all about keeping anything clean, one who cares but not enough to help, and finally, my pleaser, who will help me whenever asked and will try to remember to help when not asked.
It's still overwhelming. To me, if each person cleans up his own personal mess, we have no problems.
If only we all felt that way.
I have two choices: clean it up myself or ask the offender to do it.
Both have pros and cons.
If I clean it up myself, I have the benefit of knowing it will be done to my often-unreasonable expectations (the way a towel is folded, the way a bed should be made, where the dishes are put away). I know that I will have the personal satisfaction of a job well done, and I will know exactly what I have done and what still needs to be done.
If I request that it be done by the offender, in an ideal world, that offender would do it. Instead, in the BEST-case scenario, it is put off to "later," a time that seems to be related to the word "never." If I request again, I am a nag and just being mean, because they SAID they'd do it later! GOD! If I then do it myself, I am being a total freak and wow, I SAID I would do it, what is WRONG with you!?
And I mean, let's face it. I am gone more than anyone else in the house, with the exception of my kid, who lives with his dad half the time. Do I enjoy coming home to a messy house? Uh, NO. Is it the quickest thing to put me in a horrible mood? You bet.
I KNOW, ladies, that I am not alone in this quandry. My question is, at what point do we give in? At what point do we try to change our very makeup, the stuff that makes us who we are, to save our own sanity?
I don't want to resort to drinking EVERY night. I mean, that's not good for you, right? Or is it now? I can't keep up.
I just know that, when I get home tonight at roughly 11:30 p.m., there will be a mess.
I can count on few things in this life, but by God, I know I can count on that.