My Whole Tomato

I am so f*cking glad I don't have a hangover. It's Monday.  And only Day 2.  Wine o'clock came and went without much of a kerfuffle. My Whole Tomato came from a conversation I had two years ago with a childhood friend.  I had pretty much lost touch with her, except for Facebook.  We were brought back together by the sudden passing of one in our high school circle of friends. I had seen in her posts of her going to Burning Man and other social media friendly events with her husband, so I asked after him.  She admitted that she had just recently left him.  I then returned the favor of candor, and told her that I was desperately unhappily married to the kindest man in the world. Kind, but left me feeling that I wasn't getting enough nutrients, only half a tomato.   So I asked her how she did it-- how she left.  I have known for years that I should leave.  In fact, I did move out for about 6 months, nearly 5 years ago. I came back be...

DAY 1  One toe into sobriety Of course, this is not my first day one.  Over the past 5 or so years, I've had probably 100 in total. I have had many of those day ones alone. I have had several day ones with Belle. I had a few with Kate Bee. I had one or two with Holly GW. Thanks for all of your help in my furtive and feeble efforts. Earlier this month, I met a young man at a company event who didn't drink.  I think he might have been taken aback by how overly interested in his non-drinking I was.  I confessed to him that I had tried and failed many times-- and he told me what everyone says is integral to real, deep and meaningful change:  You gotta have a reason. I have known the reason for quite some time.  But it was general, blotchy, overly ambitious, unfocused.  Which left me open to the side of me that had gotten the upper hand in my life for the last 10 years or so-- the desire to self-destruct. There was absolutely no light a...