Dreamed about drinking last night.  First time.  It was a small water glass.  Diameter of an oreo.  Not tall.  Three quarters full of Pinot Grigo.  Which isn’t even my favorite.

It’s funny how something I used to guzzle constantly, something I missed when not doing, is scary.  Maybe I should have said I had a drinking nightmare.  I feel like the little kid who needs to write 100 times:  I will not drink today.

Or.  Maybe I need to get out of my own damn head and think about other stuff.  I think that’s what worked at the beginning – just keep saying No and think about why and how long later.

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