I complain too much about Rambo on here, and I fear you guys only ever see the bad side of him. So, as he was being incredibly sweet yesterday, I feel the need to share that with you now as well.
He was at work, as he always is on a Friday afternoon/evening*, but hanging around on msn for me to talk to him as he's been doing ever since I got him a smartphone a few weeks ago**. Which is very helpful when I'm feeling depressed and ranting, but not so helpful when I need food. Which, needless to say, isn't easy for me to make as the easy to make stuff disappears rather quickly. So anyway, Friday afternoon. I'd not had anything to eat all day as I couldn't make myself anything and he only woke up in time to go to work, not in time to make me food first. I was starving. Had a good hunt around in the kitchen for something I could make - found something. A tin of soup. Right at the top of the cupboard. I'm a short-arse, by the way. Just over five foot. Can't reach the top cupboards properly. But I thought I would try anyway as Rambo wouldn't be home for hours and I was starving. Reached up for it, fingers just barely brushing it, straining myself reaching this far as is, try harder, manage to move tin slightly, push it towards myself, meaning to catch it with my other hand, hand fails at catching. Tin of soup lands on the counter underneath the cupboard that is, rather inconveniently, covered in dirty dishes, which proceed to fall onto the floor and smash, some of them landing on my feet. Ow.
I run away and have a bit of a cry at this point as I get a bit overwhelmed and frustrated with myself when I fuck things up like that and I have no idea how I'm going to go about fixing it. Eventually decide 'fuck it, there's not much I can do about it' and figure I might as well get myself some food. Now, I don't know how many of you people reading this know me that well, but me walking around near broken glass is a sure-fire recipe for disaster. But I thought I could avoid it long enough to make a tin of soup. Oh how wrong I was. Cut my feet up a bit, despite my best efforts to avoid the glass, cut my fingers wiping off the glass that was stuck to my feet, managed to spill the tin of soup I was trying to cook all over the oven as I was having a bad wrist day and they were both weak and spasming and apparently not up to holding a tin of soup, let alone opening it.
At this point I give up, and run away crying again, to the laptop. Where I proceed to tell Rambo all about it and cry at him and tell him that I'm stupid and useless and can't do anything and everything I touch just goes horribly wrong and I don't even want to try fixing things because I'll just make it all worse.
This next bit is the sweet bit, by the way:
He replies to that with 'and sometimes when you touch things you make them the best they've ever been', then proceeds to take his lunch-break from work early, and use it to come home, clean up the kitchen, make me food, get me a blanket and pillows to lie on the sofa with, and order me not to try and do things again tonight and he'll fix everything I want/need when he gets home again. Then goes back to work, without any food for himself.
*He got a part-time job so that he would be at home to look after me most of the time, but they shifted his hours around soon after him getting it and he's been working 1-8pm Thursday-Saturday. It may be part-time hours, but I can't cope with him being gone seven hours at a time! Need his hours to be a bit more spread out!
** £15/month for a free phone, unlimited internet, 300 minutes and 300 texts. And he's absolutely loving it. Best thing we've bought in a long time.
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