The BF has been overworked lately–lots of projects due, it’s his first year at the company so he’s everyone’s bitch, etc. He had recently apologized for this and vowed to spend the weekend relaxing with me, especially after he came home at 8:30 p.m. on Thursday and fell straight asleep (I had been walking the dog, usually his job, for several days). Unfortunately, it was not to be.
Friday he came home, again after 8 p.m., and fell asleep. He woke up much later and we walked the dog together, but by then it was after midnight and I was ready for bed (he’s an insomniac normally so with his nap he was wide awake). I was getting irritated because this was the second night in a row I’d been watching tv by myself downstairs (thanks to no friends in New City) while he slept, and then going to bed alone (no sex!) while he watched tv till the early hours.
Then he woke me up at 5:30 a.m. Saturday morning and asked me to take him to the Emergency Room. Continued