Wednesday, February 11th.

3:00pm. We’re forbidden from having contact, of any kind, with the women here. No talking, no laughing, no looking, even. Maybe you’re thinking a little hug might feel nice, outside of Group…? Try it and they’ll throw you out on your ear. Fraternizing, they call it. Which is a word I’ve always associated  with ”the enemy”. Strange… they don’t seem so menacing. Well, okay a few of them do. But from way over here, most of them seem pretty harmless. Until you look a little closer. Then you see that they really are temptation incarnate. Earlier today, we were all gathered in the Great Room.  We were in there to hear a few people tell their Life Stories. One of today’s Storytellers was Diane. Diane is a Fashion Rep from Oswego. You read that correctly. I’ve been aware of Diane since she got here, in a casual sort of way. She’s good looking, I guess. Cute. Then she stepped up to that podium and… I dunno. I wanted nothing more than to be sipping a glass of wine with that beautiful woman on the French Riviera. It was all I could think about… I was captivated. And as I stared at her face, in a breathy voice she whe was saying… I don’t really remember what she was saying, but it’s unimportant… because in my mind she was reciting the ticker that scrolls across the bottom of the screen during Sportscenter. And it never sounded so sweet. I tried to shake the image, but it was too late. Before long she had traded in her sweatshirt and comfy pants for the outfit that matched the 12 beer steins she was effortlessly carrying. She looked just like the St. Pauli Girl. (Except, I think she turned into a cigarrette-girl at one point, or maybe she made out of cigarettes. I don’t really remember. It was all happening so fast.) All I know is that for a brief moment, I would’ve followed that girl anywhere. I’ve come so far in the last three and a half weeks. Or have I? I was going to throw it away without a second thought. All for some beer-wench in a lace-up corset that talks like Chris Berman. And is made of tobacco. And smells like my dog after he’s had a bath. Yeah, whatever. It’s my daydream and I miss my dog.    

9:00pm. So, I’m actually getting out of here in a few days. Man, I was beginning to think I was a lifer. In some respects it feels like I got here yesterday. In others, it’s like I’ve been here a million years. I feel like I’ve been reminded of what life can be like. Or maybe what it is like… and I’m discovering it for the first time. At least as an adult. I don’t really know what happened with me. It’s like my friends all graduated and left school to have families… start careers. I was left looking around to see who was having the next kegger. And wondering where the hell everybody was going. This is the first time since I was 17, that I’ve had a Month (…almost) that wasn’t dominated with Booze, Weed and Cigarettes. I don’t know that dominated is the right word, but the capital letters are certainly warranted. That’s the thing about acknowledging this sort of thing. It’s like you finally realize you’ve been traveling at 150 miles an hour. With the tunes cranked and your head out the window. Except you’re the only one in your tighty whities. And you’re the only one laughing. It can be a little jarring. I’ve learned a few things since I’ve been here. And some of it aint pretty. Anyways, a couple more days and I’m done. They’re turning me loose. Returning me to the General Populace. Cured. Well… Not by a longshot, from what they’re telling me, but equipped with more tools than I had a month ago, anyway. I really don’t want to go back to living the way I was. I wasn’t happy. (I don’t suppose too many people come in here because they’re on a roll.) But I’ve changed. Jesus, I hope I can keep this going. It’s worth taking a serious look at what things were like 26 days ago, when I walked into this place. It scares the shit out of me to think of how easily I could go back to the same routine. (Because… here goes, to tell you the truth things weren’t really going that badly for me. I’ve said that a hundred times since I got here and everytime it gets called out for the bullshit it is. Like I said, people don’t come here to celebrate how wonderful their lives are.) I’ll put it this way. I was at a crossroads. And the road I was about to choose was the one I was already on, and it was heading South. Fast. It wasn’t the first time things had gotten a little out of control with the booze. In fact, my life was, for quite some time, coming in waves. I would have stretches of Greatness. (Okay, here maybe the capital G is a little much, but I sure have had my moments.) I’d have weeks, even months, of forward progress. And I dare say… I’ve had some sizeable accomplishments along the way. Except that as soon as I’d get a little momentum, those times were stopped cold by stretches of drunken isolation. There’s no other way to put it. I had gotten to the point where I was mostly drinking alone. It wasn’t always that way. I used to go out all the time. I’m a social being. Shit, if anything I love people too much. I just put myself in a position where I could rarely go out and actually see any. I’d get home and down 7 or 8 beers before the 12-pack even got in the fridge. Add a few shots of Jack and by the time the phone rang… if it rang… I was climbing in the bag if I wasn’t in there already. “Sure, I’d love to go. Think you could pick me up?” Yeah, that’s a friend everybody wants to have. Good times. Well, the ride offers lessened until I did most of my drinking as a Party of One. Plus dog. All this sacrifice… just to adhere to the strict No Drinking and Driving rule I’ve imposed on myself. Man’s gotta have principles. Amazing how a person’s convictions grow stronger after they get a 2nd DWI in the process of rolling their truck and almost killing themselves. 

10:00pm. Ron G. is a toolbag. I really can’t say that about too many people I’ve met here, but this guy is driving me nuts. I think it’s because I’ve known people like him before. I used to work with a guy just like him. Didn’t like that guy either. Whatever. He’s just a negative dude, and he lives two doors down, so he comes by here all the time. And he’s always got something shitty to say about someone. What do I care, really? I’m out of here in on Friday. I don’t want him signing my book though. When you leave here, all the other people sign your Big Blue Book Gives you their number, etc. so you can keep in touch. I don’t want that guy signing my book. I know he’s going to ask, too. Forget it. …And okay I am five years old. 

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