It’s Saturday morning, I’ve been up for an hour, and it’s still dark outside. When did I become a morning person?
OK, not only that, but it has been 85 days since I last had a drink. People who know me must be looking at me and scratching their heads wondering, “what the fuck?” I know I am.
I’m trying to see this as me opening myself up to new opportunities. Do you know how much you can accomplish between 5-8am when you’re not heaving into the toilet with a hangover? The world is so quiet at that hour, even here in Queens. I can have a simple breakfast and catch up on some knitting, or bill-paying, or correspondence. I am going to make a great little old lady when I grow up.
Just for the record, I am still very much a thrill-seeker. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.