Damn the Luck
There comes a point in time when I really need to stop talking. And by 'talking', what I really mean is texting. Trust me. I'm not brave enough to say many of the things I'm easily able to text. Texting lets me hide which makes me substantially more courageous. Damn the luck. I always seem to send one too many, especially when I'm a couple mango margaritas North of sober. Damn the mango margaritas. It's where it all started to begin with. Ok, it's not where it 'started' started (that was my living room), but it was certainly where I found the balls to start it. Again. I'm really not sure what I did exactly. It was a drunken pronouncement. Drunken. I'm generally not at my best when drinking. Sadly, I usually recall that fact far too late. Damn the luck again. Take tonight. I should have left well enough alone. And I would have. Sober. Alas, I was (and am) two mango margaritas in and decisively not sober. For the record, I wasn't (am not)...