I woke up at 4am this morning with adrenaline pumping. Drink dream. Salvador Dali like drink dream. I don’t know if I drank or not. I poured myself a seltzer and went out on my deck with a journal. I journaled for about 10 years a long time ago and one day pulled them out to read and all I read was “poor, poor, pitiful me crap”….. 10 long years worth. I think it was around journal 8 or 9 that I just ripped every one of them apart. Probably should’ve saved them for later. Possibly a few nuggets were worth saving but at the time I just didn’t have it in me to dig through the garbage.
I haven’t really written much since.
I’m keeping tonight short and sweet because I’m exhausted. Eat dinner. Go to bed and read although I’m pissed that I left my iPad at work. Haven’t read Belle’s blog yet today and I’m too tired to sit in front of this screen.
BTW, I need to mention she has the best sober site I’ve found. The one that got me here. It’s called- tired of thinking about drinking. Here.
I think wolfie’s at the door. The back door. Sneaky devil dog he is.
