The Conclusion of Chapter 15

   I woke up sober one day only to discover that the world changed and grown but that I had not. My disease had progressed but I had not. A snail's pace twenty-seven year rollercoaster crawl down to the sea and below. I could not have guessed that my three-martini lunches would turn into  a faceless chemical betrayal.

    Live and don't learn. Live and don't learn. Then, live and learn. Too much, too little, not enough. Try as I would, there could be no perfect level of drunk. I was a perfect idiot. My perfect level is none.

“A man who has committed a mistake and doesn't correct it is committing another mistake.”- Confucius

Which mask would I drop first when, at last, I had reached my turning point?

 

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 15)