ecrivaine

What a day.
A 2 am call to pick Clint's drunk ass up from work. Then I find out he's also hurt himself. After a bit of an argument he decides he is not going to the hospital. When we got home it was clear he should have gone while we were near it. Then this morning I was woken up, after I had finally drowned out all his whining and fallen asleep, to go to the hospital. We went. He tore his meniscus. Great. Then I had to help haul him around, get crutches, pain-killers, home. Whatever.
It would have all been fine. I love taking care of him, that's what I'm there for. Except that his roommate was being a jerk and not at all discreet about his desire for me to leave. So I finally did. And got stuck twice on the way home. A 5 minute drive turned to 40 minutes.
Then I got home, happy to lay in a warm bed and play Dragon Age. Only to find out I didn't save my game last night when I left to go get him. Great.