Minutes away from officially clocking 15 days, though I knew the moment I woke up I’d make it. How on earth did I manage so many successive hangovers? We’re probably talking close to two solid years of waking up hungover. No wonder I was depressed.

Had some lingering sadness today, as a matter of fact. Meh. I’m tired. I’ll probe my inner emotions tomorrow.

So, I just made the call I’d been dreading from my sponsor - it’s been a few days of not calling her, and she reacted in the way I expected she would. “What are you doing? You’ve been monkeying around … etc.”

She’s right, sort of. I do feel a bit caught in the middle and, thus, I’ve been avoiding her. Plus, I don’t really like her.

But, all in all, it didn’t go as bad as I planned. She softened when I told her the Kindly Orthodox Jew didn’t really think I was a compulsive gambler. I don’t know that I believe him, mind you, but it seemed to work.

I’m suspending any major changes or decisions until I make it past step 4 and 5.

I suppose we don’t get to choose how our prayers get answered, do we?

Again, very grateful for my skills and that repeat clients are coming out of the woodwork to pay me for those skills.

Dear lord, please help me to stay balanced, not get overwhelmed, and not be tempted to gamble so that this extra work I’m doing will go to the good. Thanks a bunch.

In return, I’ll try not to be a jerk today.

My horoscope is full of words like “fuses” and “blowtorch” and “conflict” and “personal meltdowns.”

Oh, my. I do place a fair amount of stock in my horoscope, partly because I do believe in astrology (which, I know the dime-a-dozen online ‘scopes aren’t) but also partly because I believe it’s a way that the God of my understanding delivers messages to me. Laugh if you’d like, I don’t mind. But if S/He knows that I’m reading those things every day, then S/He knows to tuck some targeted inspiration into the words for me.

I’m so grateful that I have skills that can net me a lot of quick cash. I admit I haven’t done a very good job cleaning up my gambling messes yet, though I can take some comfort in the fact that I am not currently making the problems any worse. And, as explored recently, not drinking is saving us a metric ton of monies.

But because I’m able to take on so much extra...

14 days. The last time I went 14 days without a drink was 2009, I believe.

Believe it or not, I’m kind of grateful today was so mentally and physically rough. It erased a lot of my smugness and made me remember how scared I was at the start of this.

Things aren’t magically perfect. My body hurts. My head hurts. My brain hurts. But I can’t imagine how I accommodated hangovers for so long now that it’s been a few weeks (exactly 2, as a matter of fact).

Accommodate is a good word. I let other stuff slide because I was hungover. A lot of remorse today. A lot of second guessing myself. A lot of blows to my confidence coming from my own hands.

Mostly, I’m just tired and a bit restless. Circling. And still very headachy. The metaphor of losing my glasses and having to see things differently, a bit painfully even, is not lost on me.

Trying to remain grateful. But a small complaint: why do I...

I knew it would come - not in a self-defeating, pessimistic way, but in a realistic sense - that I would hit a tough day.

I have hit it. I am tired. My head hurts. I’m hungry. I have too much to do, and all I want to do is go sink into the couch and open some wine, and glug, glug, glug.

That won’t help - I know it won’t. Because tomorrow I’ll be even more tired, even more headachy, even hungrier, and I’ll have twice as much to do from what I didn’t do today.

I know it’s not the answer, and I don’t seriously want to be rip-roaring, but I don’t want to feel like this: tired, headachy, hungry, stressed out.

My plan: Get some food, get some aspirin, get shit done. Then I can sack out early at 8:30 if I want to. I’m on day 14, and I’m guarding it with my life.

Someone whose writing I adore and connect with so much said she felt so much better when she wasn’t judging others. How true.

It can be so tempting to start pointing those fingers, declaring that what you’re doing isn’t the right, the best, good, etc.

The problem is, I’m a textbook projector. It’s a sure bet (that is, if I gambled any longer) that the second I start to uncrook my pointer finger and settle on a target, I need to hold up a mirror and say the words to myself. I’m so quick to point out the faults in others that I dislike the most about myself.

Here’s the truth. I don’t want to be reliant on 7 meetings a week. I don’t want to be reliant on GA or a therapist or sobriety to fix me. I don’t want to have to be fixed. I don’t want to be broken.

I don’t want to be broken. Goddamnit, I don’t want to be broken. Why am I broken and others aren’t?

I feel like I’m starting to...

There’s always that one co-worker, am I right? I get so frustrated because they keep information hidden, take a lot of time off and subsequently aren’t available, and just generally are a pain in the ass to work with.

They sent me something last week deep in the thread of a totally unrelated email that I’ve been asking about for a few days. Finally today, the answer was, “I sent that to you last week, and now it needs to be updated TODAY IMMEDIATELY STAT.”

Well, why didn’t you tell me any of the past 3 times I’ve been asking for it that you already sent it, albeit buried in another email chain?

I’m frustrated most of all with myself. I should have caught it. I also should have been better about anticipating this person’s difficulties and challenges. We’ve worked together for eight years, and every damn project it’s the same thing.

I’m frustrated because I’m trapped in golden...

I knew I had to get this out of my head as soon as it came up. I had a friend. She had a good heart and was a good friend to me, but suffice to say we got in a lot of trouble together in several different states.

She had a son, who had to witness some tough stuff along the way, including this friend having to go to jail and get sober. There was one night in her jail stay she needed me to stay with him (this was not a regular occurrence, but the request was borne out of her limited options).

I, of course, said yes. But, like an idiot, I brought a bottle of wine to drink. Her son saw it, and immediately questioned me. And I lied to him. I don’t remember what I said, bit I know I lied to him.

This poor kid had just seen his mom get taken away for drinking and had probably heard a million frail promises in the past how there’d be no more alcohol in the house ever, and what do I do?

I...

Had a fleeting thought of, “I could go gamble today. I have the car.”

I’m starting to connect that these thoughts (along with, “I could drink today.”) tend to come when I feel like my time is not my own, specifically when work is demanding and/or I take on too many tasks for other people (freelance, family, friends).

My brain seems to think that when I’m busy, the best escape is gambling away thousands of dollars I don’t have or drinking down tens of dollars I do have but that make me feel like shit.

Hey, Brain. How about the next time you’re feeling over-worked, send me a signal to take a time out, breathe deep and rest? That’ll work out better for everyone.