My best friend just returned from almost a month in a foreign land. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed her – probably almost as much as her partner has.
I’ve known that she would be returning about now – she deliberately didn’t give anyone except her partner and exact date and I honored that.
Sure enough she called the other day and we tentatively agreed to meet later that afternoon.
Right around noon she called again to tell me she was fading and was headed home for a nap. I think I was polite enough, at least until I managed to hang up the phone. But you’d think I’d never had a serene moment in my life, given the language I used as soon as the phone turned off.
Oh wasn’t about to go buy a bottle of scotch or stop in at a nearby bar. Nor was I going to go steal the almost whole cigarette butt my neighbor had in an ashtray not far from where we do laundry (but I did notice I noticed it, twice). [click to continue…]
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Years ago someone sent me this story by email, saying it had appeared on a website.
There’s a story about AA’s rather phenomenal growth in the 1940s. As might be expected from a group of recovered drunks they began to lay plans for bigger and better things ahead. As theymade plans they also began to develop rules.
I doubt if there’s a recovering addict that hasn’t at least thought “Geeze, how will I ever have fun again?”