The Night That Will Live in Infamy

Feeling good this morning, internet.

I finished my Accounting final last night at 9p, and headed to the bar to await my classmates and professor. They showed up around 10p, maybe a little past.

Four vodka and cranberries and four hours later, I got in the car to head for home. As is my custom (most of the time, anyway), I checked my cell phone. Something like 18 missed calls and a few voicemails. Oops. I had my phone turned down to take the exam, and though I checked it several times between 11pm and 12am, I quit checking at that point, figuring WH was already in bed.

Around that time, WH started calling. Unable to reach me for two hours on my cell phone, he figured I was dead in a ditch on the side of the road. He actually went through the whole concerned-worried-scared-out of his mind- super-relieved-white-hot-pissed rollercoaster normally reserved for parents. In fact, I do believe the possibility exists that he will call his Mom soon and apologize for being such a shit when he was a kid.

I, of course, called him right away. He was not so much a happy camper. Our “discussion” regarding the “incident” lasted well into the morning. He went to bed. I knew better than to try that, so I watched tv. I fell asleep for maybe 45 minutes max, at some point.

Last night was a great time. Was it worth giving WH some gray hairs? No, not really. That’s okay, though, because we have a new rule: If I am not home, or on my way home by 12am, I’m going to call WH and tell him not to wait up (or call the police and file a missing persons report). I think that’s fair.

In other news, I got the second highest grade in the class on my final!

Can I take a nap now?