Day 38

You might be surprised to learn that the loft my husband and I call home has a bar directly below it.

The entrance to the bar – which I will call  Journey’s End – would be easy to miss except for a small lighted sign with the bar name and a martini glass that hangs above the inconspicuous front door like a homing device for drunkards. 

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When I was a kid, I remember watching the movie Sybil.  It scared the crap out of me.  First of all it was shocking to see The Flying Nun – aka America’s Sweetheart, Sally Field – playing an extremely disturbed women with split personalities.  But mostly, it was the abject terror I felt at the idea of losing track of time, of having another personality inside of me launch a hostile takeover of my brain.

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Let’s get one thing clear right away…this is not a advice dispensing blog – because who am I to give advice?  I’m just getting started here.  I’ll leave the advice giving to those who have been sober for oh… I don’t know – maybe at least a month?   Otherwise, it’d be like asking Donald Trump for hairstyling tips or Tiger Woods for relationship advice.  

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