And they wonder why I drink?

So here I am, on a Labor Day Saturday, painting diligently (well, mostly diligently), trying to see what the peeps are up to tonight (though I would have appreciated someone calling me and letting me know if anything was up, but I've come not to expect those calls) and now I will be spending the night at my grandparents house. To preface this, my grandfather went to the hospital earlier this week with some coughing fits and what not. Didn't stay more than a couple of hours, but he's scared something might happen, so I got conscripted. Now I love my grandparents, I'm going to do it regardless, but they're not MY parents! What about their 5 kids, my mom and aunts and uncles? Why can't they stay the night? What about the 11 other people I call cousins and siblings? My sister says she can't because she has to worry about paying for gas. SHE MAKES MORE IN A WEEK THAN I DO!! Fucking excuses. Everyone's got 'em, I'm the only one who chooses to ignore mine I guess. I mean, I can read my book, talk to the pops (always an interesting time now that he tells me how much he misses "putting the root" as he calls it, to the ladies. So while other people get to run around doing their random crap, leaving me out in the meanwhile, I get to geratric-sit. Again, I don't harbor any ill will toward my grandparents, I just wish people would pay all three of us a little more attention.