The twelve-ounce aluminum monkey is perched on my back once again.

I’m going through a divorce right now so that has me more stressed than usual and as a result I’ve been drinking more. Friday night when I got home I drank 10 beers. Saturday I started drinking at 9am and went through 22 cans. Yesterday I added another dozen to the shameful total.

Apparently I popped some corn Saturday night and cooked up some spaghetti but I have no memory of it. Not a single fleeting glimmer of a memory. That worries me greatly.

Figured I’d stop by here and put it in writing as a symbol to myself of hope and intention. I have to stop this before it stops me.

Thanks for listening.