I remember the date was Jan 3, because it would be my sobriety birthday, but I can't remember what I was doing on Jan 2. I was drinking obviously, but at home or a bar, I don't know. I did have a couple of empty bottles lying around the house, and arbitrarily designated one as the last bottle I ever bought. I kept it as kind of souvenir for a few years, and finally threw it out because keeping it wasn't as cool as I thought it would be. It wasn't a trigger. It even had some residual whisky in it, but it had zero nostalgia appeal. It was just a reminder of who I used to be. It never tempted me, not once, because of my deep disgust for the person I used to be. Had it ever caused me just a warm thought, I would have gotten rid of it sooner. But the reality was when I looked at I was feeling about as empty and blank as I ever felt about anything in my, so one day it just went into the trash, without a proper ceremony of any kind. Not even a "good riddance." It could have been me tossing empty egg shells, and then it was gone.