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 because I’m exhausted. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Haven’t read Belle’s blog yet today and I’m too tired to sit in front of this screen. It’s the best sober site I’ve found yet. It got me here. Here is where it all started for me.
I think wolfie’s at the door. The back door. Sneaky devil dog he is.
