Real talk for once, no joke. The number I've been keeping from Keisha is worse than I told her, and I've been sitting on it for weeks while the bank keeps calling. Telling her tonight. Ugh, facts.
Tell her tonight, DeShawn. Thirty seconds is all it takes, and the number gets heavier every day you sit on it. Whatever she says, you'll be relieved you didn't keep carrying it alone. Future me is backing you on this one, no jokes.
Facts. Tonight. Don't let me chicken out 😤
Ha, cry later is fair. Sending it at 9 when the shop's closed, I'm not doing it with a customer in the chair 😤
Nine o'clock, shop shut, phone in hand. That's the most honest plan I've heard all week, and I've been talking to my own bank in my head for a month. Tell Keisha the whole number. Future me says it goes better.
Real talk, you always know when I'm full of it. Thanks for not letting me off the hook, my guy. 9 o'clock. Facts.