You’d think the weeks where I don’t want to get hurt because I don’t want to have to answer the “how many drinks do you have a week” question at the hospital that week would be sign enough. Nope, it’s taking realizing that my insatiable hunger that has no interest in most food is actually craving for alcohol to figure that one out. Shit. The asian lady at the grocery store spent five minutes recommending different foods that are good for curing hunger this morning and I’m pretty sure she told me to be careful and not eat too much so that I don’t get fat.

Nothing like high-fiving on bike rides to remind me that if I’m going to have a less complicated life in the future I need to shut the fuck up. Oh, hi internet, didn’t see you there; failure two. Anyway, despite all of this weeks bad choices made on whims and feelings rather than fore-thought, it’s been better than last week. Here’s to reunions capping the weekend off on a much higher note than last.