Update

I had my last drink on September 22nd. It was a fat glass of barbaresco and I was sitting alone at Touche, trying hard to dive right into my Tom Robbins novel. My eyes glazed back and forth over his elaborate text, but my mind wandered to more wanton thoughts. While I knew the barbaresco would be my last glass, it certainly was not the first of the evening. I started my regular rounds of crass text messages, a little charm of my stunted emotional growth, knowing i'd blush about it later. But i didn't care. It was a personal farewell party, an introspective gluttonous binge, my own mardi gras to prepare for the oncoming ash wednesday. Tonight, I drink, and tomorrow I begin my lent.

I have not had a sip of alcohol nor a morsel of bread since then.
That is, until last night.

12 Bridges gin, stirred and served up with a big fat twist. Within the first sip my nerves were rattled to the bone, and i giggled with elation. Baby, it was good.

My mission failed. I was supposed to wait until halloween, but as always my greedy side took the best of my strong will. If this is any insight to my character it would have been this last Thursday. I broke one very important self-inflicted rule, and as i witnessed the smoke smoldering from the plane, i decided to sit back relax and pour myself a martini and let it come crashing down.

Now that i've finished my perfectly stirred gin, and the plane lay indistinguishably on the ground, I will get up dust myself off and pick up the pieces to start over.

Today is day one again.