Ugh. So I am apart from Reagan. I have to take some time and decide if this is what I want. Now don't get your panties all in a bunch. I am not running for no reason. Some things came to light that have forced me to step back and decide if this can work. But I can't until after I finish this current paper. I really don't have the time to think this through fully and I am not going to make any rash decisions.
So Matilda, the best friend ever, knew I was having a horrible day. He and I had made plans to share a beer and gossip, but in light of the new development with Reagan I felt it was best to postpone said drinkfest. So there I was, at home, in sweats, watching horrible reality tv when I got a text.
Matilda: Drunk Yet?
Me: Haven't had a drop. Reagan sent me his explanation.
Matilda: I'm unclear, he's in legal trouble because he married 2 girls.
Me: It's complicated. I'll give you the 411 tomorrow night. Between the two of us we could write a book. Seriously.
Matilda: Yeah we could, yours would be in crayon because you are a girl and girls are dumb and smell funny and have cooties and pee sitting down and far a lot...
Me: Um, I'm not sure how else to respond, other then to tel you that I'm rubber and you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you. Oh yeah, and quit drinking.
Matilda: Fuck you, I'm sober for now.
Me: Ha. And while what you said was true you forgot to that girls have vaginas and you're a fan.
Matilda: Unless they are bloody, then I just don't look down.
Me: Oh for the love of god.
Matilda: See, grosses you out too.
So. I got to have a great laugh. Which was what his intention was. He knows me all too well.
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