Its Thursday, I slept through all of Michael’s alarms, which is rare and also an indicator that I must have been sleeping soundly because he has an alarm that starts at 5:10 and he will snooze it every five minutes until damn near 6. I push, poke, and whine every time. Just set the fuckingContinue reading “Coping & Grief.”
Tag Archives: alcohol
Monday.
It’s 5:13. My internal clock has changed since I stopped drinking, but I’ve always loved mornings. I’m a go-to-bed-early and get-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn kind of gal. Mornings are quiet. The house is still asleep. No kids to referee, no food to cook, no dishes to wash, no laundry to fold. It’s simply me time. I crack aContinue reading “Monday.”
Memorial Weekend.
I have ribs marinating in the fridge. I used cherry cola as a brine; I love cooking. Food is my love language, but just like drinking, I always overdo it. I cook too much, preparing more than we will ever eat, often leaving hardly any room in the fridge. It tends to be a patternContinue reading “Memorial Weekend.”
Saturday.
Saturday. The weekend always feels like forever for it to get here, then it’s always gone so fast. I’ve been up since 4:30; we just got a new kitten, and that’s like having a newborn. I get up, sit on the side of the bed, and chug last night’s warm lime Gatorade, check the timeContinue reading “Saturday.”
Soberly, Yours. 