Hi, 8 readers. I wish that this would take a long time to write, because I love to write, but I know it won’t.
I had a relapse and I got caught. It was a small one (I’m not making excuses, because it was still indefensible, but it was only a few hours and I remained pretty coherent), but the Collector is shipping me off to a 14-day lockdown and then taking me away somewhere for the Holidays.
I’m sneaking this in from my own separate place so that I know it’s private.
It makes me angry because he gave me booze and pills in the past and he also has a big wine closet. The wine closet doesn’t bother me much because it’s under the stairs and I never have to see it or think about it. The bar upstairs always stresses me out because it’s always there and I have to pass by it.
To his credit, he took all the liquor out of the bar and put it in a locked room so I don’t have to see it again unless he’s entertaining guests. I hate to be a jerk, because my addiction is not his problem, but he should have done that all along.
I’m not going anywhere. This blog is my connection with the outside world. But I am going to be incommunicado for the next few weeks.
For anyone who hangs in there: thanks for your patience.
And happy holidays.