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31-DAY CHALLENGE
Day Two: The Drunkest I’ve Ever Been
Does death give us a free pass?
Trigger warning: If you like corn on the cob, you best not read this.
Well, it’s only the second day of the challenge, and I’m already showing my cards. After yesterday’s and today’s disclosure, you may conclude I drank too much in my younger days. I won’t say I agree, but I will admit, sometimes whisky was my friend.
Until it wasn’t.
He was funny and personable. The guy we didn’t mind having around the office, and he came there a lot. Hanging around helped ease his anxiety, and we enjoyed his company, too. So, when we got the news that he lost his life by overdose, I was understandably upset—such a young life, taken by mistake.
That day at the office was hard. There was no visit, no laughter. At quitting time, I raced to the liquor store, bought a mickey of Canadian Club, and headed for my boss’ house to join others who felt the loss. The burning liquid went down quickly, and not before long, the contents of the bottle stood dry.
The night carried with it lots of bonding and reminiscing. Once everyone left, I stayed a while longer, and nausea hit me, so I walked out to the patio, letting the breeze slap my face. I was numb with dulled senses. The…
