I vowed not to turn another birthday as a drunk, so here it is, my birthday month.
All kinds of ugliness of late, and yet somehow I get away with it. No more. My body is screaming at me.
So count me in for October. At this point it either sticks, or I'm out. Sadly, I hardly care one way or the other, despite having everything a person could want. Something is still missing. I won't find what's missing unless I'm sober. So count me in.