i've got another confession to make
kate and i are watching the x-files.
"there's no way she didn't sleep with him!" i say, pointing to the picture dancing past on the screen: scully in an oversized men's dress shirt. kate nods her agreement.
i've changed twice since she's arrived. first, because i needed a sweater. and secondly because i managed to fling balsamic vinagrette all over myself and half of the dining room with my fork and a single slice of carrot. i've decided that from now on i should just wear a smock whenever i attempt anything that involves possible spillage.
which, in my life, means i should be draped twenty four hours a day.
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