(Maybe we're all working that last nerve today. It's going to be such a tough week in more ways than one.)
I kind of got into it with Matt this morning. I don't even know how we got to the point that we did but it's amazing to find out the dynamic of how we interact isn't how I thought it was.
I got up at six, did all the chores, drove the kids to school and then came back and traded off with PJ, who took over because I'm still not at full capacity and so I took my headphones and my phone and crawled into his bed with the curtains drawn and the lights out because his bed is warm, usually unmade and smells like Irish Spring and spilled whiskey.
I had a blissful nap, emerging around ten. PJ asked what I thought of the new album and I smiled big. It's just like Hysteria, I said.
Matt is off this morning, packing for London (here we go again) and was pouring himself a cup of coffee. Def Leppard? You going to make a new pole-dancing playlist?
I don't know if I could even fault him. My very brief attempt to pay the rent stripping (why the hell not? I'm used to being on stage. I'm used to having my clothes off) is rather legendary. I danced to half the songs on Hysteria. Matt wasn't there. He's only heard the stories. Maybe that's why he doesn't get to make jokes about it. It was so brief I don't even know if I have the right to be offended but I am. My face must have said it all.
Oh, Bridget. I didn't mean...I'm sorry. You've led such an extraordinary life and done so many crazy things, I was just trying to..I don't know what I was trying to do. Be too familiar, probably. I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you.
You didn't exactly. I don't even know why it stung. Facts are facts. Let's forget about it.
I just keep my feet in my mouth these days. I didn't mean for you to be a victim of that as well.
How are things?
I can well imagine.
Why won't he join me?
Hoes before bros? Wait. Too soon?
Jesus, Matt. Get on the plane before I rip your face right off, okay?