It’s not alcohol I have a problem with, per se. Its the hard stuff. Of course I say this while drinking white wine (which i quite despise) at 1 pm on a workday. I’m not trying to get drunk, so much as get to a familiar head-space – to feel like me. Because that’s what feels like ME: half-drunk.  

Five days semi-sober and I’m acutely aware of the itch I can’t scratch. So starts the barganing. 


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