There are things in sobriety I love; like the mornings. Morning time has become the best time, whether the orange sun rises across the creek, or rain pours down, or humidity is about to spread like a sweltering blanket across town. Nothing feels more serene than looking over the estuary, and calmly proceeding to start the day. It’s my mental stretch.
Then there are things that break my little sober heart; like the fact that hot wings have no meaning without beer. Sigh.
I guess it’s a small price to pay for my life and happiness, but, whatever.