Monday January 5, 2015
from a tweet by Anne Lamott
It was better than it used to be but it wasn’t the best. This is part of it. This is the ache before the growth spurt, at least that’s what you tell yourself. When you crawl to the kitchen, lips dry, eyes only partly open, you wonder when the sun might reach a ray out from under the cloud cover. It’s hard to find the light when there isn’t any. The doctor says: no more booze, no more pills, no more smokes, no more chocolate. What’s the point then? You mother would laugh and pour herself a double scotch. Who knows what your father would do. You drink a diet cola and wish it had something deeper, grungier, skunkier in it. You smile at the photo of your nephew on the fridge. You’ve never met him, but you will.