The past few days has been hell, torture, and all things in-between. I’ll get my posts all caught up one of these days. The other evening, Bill called me. He wanted to go talk over drinks at some sports bar. At first, I kept saying no because I had made a salad and cooked this really good little flatbread pizza. He eventually wore me down enough and dinner was wrapped up and put in the fridge. I put on some jeans, a UGA t-shirt, my Nikes, and a cute cotton jacket from Old Navy; I was trying to tone down the glam-girl look he had seen at the wedding, hoping/praying that he would go back to being the genius best friend. I even  shoved some bobby pins in my hair and was able to get it into a skinny rubberband. I was rockin’ the “just left the leash and pedometer by the door” look if I do say so myself.

Extremely long story short, Bill ended up drunk as a effin’ skunk, calling me from the mens’ bathroom. I went in to drag him out, which turned into him confessing his love for me and his idiocy for never telling me. Needless to say, I got the bartender todrag his ass into a cab and left him. It’s one thing to get drunk off your face, I’ll help you get home and maybe even stay to make sure you go to sleep on your side with a trashcan, aspirin, and water nearby, but when you tell me how much you love me, beg me to be with you, and cry about how you wished you were with me rather than “Andre The Giant,” (which I had, and will continue to have, a good laugh about this) I go from nursemaid to cold, hard bitch who leaves your dumb ass on the nasty tiled floor of the mens’ bathroom.

When I got home, Scott was sleeping in my recliner with Georgia on his feet, one of my blankets across his body, his glasses sliding down his face, and his laptop on the verge of becoming buddies with the floor. I just stood, stared at this picture of peacefulness and love, and may have even cried a bit. He awoke once he heard me moving around in the bedroom as I changed and got ready to go to sleep. “How was your evening out?” He asked in that sexy groggy way as he scratched the growing shadow on his chin and cheeks.

I turned to him with a smile and hugged him tightly. I figured I’d tell him when I wasn’t so emotional. And, I did! Ta-dah! I told him last night when he spotted me checking my phone for the millionth time because Bill has been calling and texting all the damn time. He’s apologized, asked for forgiveness, blamed it on the alcohol, asked to be my friend, you name it. I’m just reading and deleting baby, that is until Scott asked. I had to tell him the whole story over a glass of wine with our dinner. He got pissed, whoo! did he get pissed, but I calmed him down (and even made him laugh) with his new nickname and the fact that I left the guy lying on the bathroom floor. I have a nagging feeling that Scott suspects that I’m involved with Bill, which is never, hear me NEVER, going to happen. Scott’s too sweet, smart, kind, tough, protective, caring, funny, and all that wrapped in a hot package (plus I love him to no end) for me to betray loyalty like that. No way, jose!

All this added onto the week I had in Savannah makes me a very stressed out person. I hope everybody’s Easter was nice; I spent Easter working from bed, eating some of the chocolate that Scott and I bought. My covers have officially dominated my will and hold it hostage at the most opportune moments for me!